“Okay,” she answered, clearly still uncertain. After a moment she shook her head and jumped to her feet with a sudden burst of energy. “No. I’m going to do it, and it’s going to go great!” she exclaimed, pumping her fist.
“That’s the spirit!” Her enthusiasm quickly spread to me, and I began to look at the prospect of training Marin in a more amenable light. As I smiled down at her, I realized for the first time how low the sun had dipped during my nap, and I looked back in the direction we had come. “If we want to make it back before dark, we should probably go now.”
As we started our trip back through the woods, I scanned out ahead of us to find our exact destination and was amazed to find that the path to the Corells’ clearing was already nearing completion. The large work crew swarmed like a colony of ants along the road, clearing lumber, packing down the freshly bared earth, and felling trees. They moved with an impressive level of efficiency that explained Elise’s confidence in her promise of the project being finished by the end of the week. By the time we reached the clearing, the contractors were removing the last of the felled trees via the newly created driveway.
Marten was busy discussing the impending build with the foreman, so Lia and I waited quietly at the edge of the clearing until Marin and Hana arrived. It took a considerable amount of effort from all of us to draw Marten away from the project, but we managed to load up the wagon and exit the forest before the sun had fully set for the day. Before we left, the foreman guaranteed that the building materials would arrive before first light on the following day and that we were all welcome to watch the construction process to give our input on what features the house should have.
Upon returning to Elise’s house for the night, we ate a quick dinner together before retiring to our separate rooms. Lia and I waited a few minutes to give Marin enough time to change into her sleeping clothes, then knocked softly on her door. “Come in!” she called out from inside. We entered the room to find her sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing one of Lia’s nightgowns and writing in a small notebook on the bedside table. “What’s up?”
I gave Lia a light push on the small of her back, and she stepped forward. “Hey, Marin. Remember that conversation we had while we were in Kaldan, about how you wished you could learn how to fight?”
With a level of restraint I had never seen from her, Marin closed the notebook, stoppered her ink bottle, and sat with her hands folded in her lap. “Yes, I do. Why do you ask?”
“Well, I talked about it with Lux, and, uh, if you’re still interested, we think it would be a good idea. To teach you how to fight, I mean.” She tapped her fingers together nervously as she looked side to side, avoiding Marin’s eyes. “Obviously, you don’t have to say yes, but—”
Marin stood up from the bed and jumped forward, hugging Lia with so much force that I had to catch the pair before they crashed to the floor. “Thank you!” she cried, grasping blindly out at me as she buried her face in Lia’s shoulder. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I stepped forward and offered out my hand, and she immediately pulled me into a group hug. “Thank you, both of you. Thank you.” Her voice broke as she continued her effusive thanks, and tears ran down her face.
I blinked down at her, momentarily stunned by the sudden outburst. “I didn’t know you were so enthusiastic about the idea,” I commented, gently rubbing her back. “Have you always wanted to be a fighter?”
“Primes, no!” she said, shaking her head. “Valandra was always the warrior of the family, and I was happy to leave it that way.” She rested her chin on Lia’s shoulder and looked up at me, her eyes glistening with sadness. “I always thought she was perfect. She fought against evil and kept our country safe, and no matter how hard things were, she was never afraid. But now,” she sniffled, and her lips started to quiver, “now I don’t know if that’s true. I didn’t want to believe you when you first came back from the keep, but after everything I’ve seen...What if...what if she’s a-always just...just been...”
She started to sob, but what she was trying to say was clear. “It’s alright, Marin. You’re safe now,” I whispered, scratching the top of her head in slow circles. “You don’t have to worry about her anymore.”
“No!” she yelled suddenly, startling me. “For the first time in my life, I DO have to worry about her! I have to worry about what she might do!” She took a step away from our group embrace and looked between us, her brow drawn back with an almost desperate concern. “I need to learn how to fight so that if Valandra shows up again, I can stop her from hurting anybody. You’re all…” she trailed off and looked down at her feet. “You’re all I have now. I can’t let her take that away.”
My throat tightened as she revealed her true motivations. She shouldn’t have to carry that burden. I still don't want to believe Val gave that order, but… My fists balled against my legs, and I stepped forward. "Marin.” Her face snapped up from the floor, and her bloodshot eyes met mine. “We’re going to teach you everything we know: fighting, magic, all of it. I promise you, the next time you meet your sister, you’ll be more powerful than she’s ever been.”
Lia’s hand appeared on my shoulder as she took her place beside me. “You don’t have to worry about us, Marin. We’ll all keep each other safe from now on.”
Marin’s head bobbed up and down, sending a fresh wave of tears down her cheeks. She wordlessly approached and hugged us again, resting her head between our shoulders. Although I could already tell from her demeanor that she was sincere, I confirmed it with a quick pulse of mana; the dim, flickering pink energy in her core exuded waves of pure joy, sadness, and worry. Lia and I comforted her until her tears dried up, then tucked her into bed for the night.
We stayed silent until we were back in our own room, preparing for bed. “I thought you hadn’t decided if we should teach Marin magic yet.”
“I didn’t know if we could trust her with it, but I do now,” I answered. “She’s been betrayed by someone she had complete faith in. I’ve been where she is now, and there’s no stopping that feeling; Marin’s going to fight harder than anybody to try and fix the broken piece inside of her.” I flopped face first into my pillow, consumed with the opposing emotions of resolve and defeat. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let any of this happen in the first place.”
“Stop that,” Lia chided as she slid into bed. “Val’s decisions aren’t your fault, and you know it.” Her hand scratched at the base of my neck, and I melted into the fluffy mattress below us. “I agree with you, though. I think teaching Marin magic is the right thing to do.”
“Thanks, Lia,” I said, rolling onto my side. Her smile caught me off guard and warmed my heart before I had a chance to brood any further. “I love you.”
She slid towards me and kissed my forehead. “I love you, too.” She turned to the bedside and snuffed out our lamp, then burrowed under the covers, holding a hand out towards me. I took it tightly in mine, smiling at her through the darkness. “Now, take a break from worrying about everyone for a second and get some sleep,” she laughed, squeezing my fingers. “We’re going to be busy for the next few days.”
“I’ll try,” I chuckled in return. The task turned out to be easier than I had imagined, and I was asleep before my worries could come back to me.
---
“I can’t believe it. I don’t want to.”
“It’s the truth, Elden,” Jarut answered glumly. “He lied to us, and we believed him without question. Now we have to deal with the consequences.”
“No,” Kel corrected sharply, “THEY have to deal with the consequences. It’s not our job to put the country back together; our job ended when the ‘war’ did.”
“The three of us have more blood on our hands than anybody, and we’re the only ones who can do anything about it,” he shot back. “We have to do something.”
“I am going to do something,” she answered sharply, poking her finger against his plated chest. “I’m going home to defend my people.�
�
“We still don’t know if that’s even necessary,” I cut in. “This could all be—”
Kel whirled on me in a sudden fury. “It could be what? A mistake? A misunderstanding?” She let out a cruel laugh. “You need to grow the fuck up, Elden. Just because it’s too hard for your fragile little heart to handle doesn’t make it less true.”
“That’s not fair!” I argued. “Just because I want to have a little faith in people, you’re calling me weak?”
“There’s a difference between faith and stupidity, and you—”
“ENOUGH!” Jarut roared. He slammed his fist down on the wooden table that stood between us and punched a hole straight through its center. I recoiled from the outburst in shock; even in battle, his voice had never risen above a mild shout. Kel stepped back and crossed her arms, sulking quietly. Jarut’s composure softened immediately after the outburst, and he pinched the bridge of his nose as he sighed.
“Baasch has been leading the Disciples all along. He staged the conflict at the border, he petitioned King Janus to rally the banners of war, and he led us away from the capital to fight. I can’t say for certain if the King was involved in the plot from the start, but...it seems likely, given the information. While we were losing troops to the Disciples in our staged war, Baasch was recruiting more of them behind our backs in the capital.” He pointed to three curled scraps of parchment on the table. “Our intel arrived at the same time from three separate informants. There’s no misunderstanding here, Elden. We’ve been betrayed.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “So, all the fighting we’ve gone through, all the people we’ve killed...it was for nothing?”
“No,” he answered firmly, “not for nothing. Baasch is controlling the Disciples, which means he’s been playing both sides all along. This war was inevitable, and if we hadn’t fought, he would control all of Alderea by now.”
“He already controls Alderea,” Kel muttered.
“He controls the capital,” Jarut countered. “Given time, he’ll recruit enough Disciples to take over the country, too. Unless we stop him.”
I stood sullenly by the edge of the table, staring at the ground. “How could Baasch do this?” I looked between my two companions' faces for an answer, but I found only sadness. “He was leading the war effort. I stood shoulder to shoulder with him against the Disciples. I trusted him with my life.”
“We’ll have to ask him when we reach the capital,” Jarut replied.
I caught a flash of movement in the corner of my eye as Kel whipped her arm through the air, and three daggers impaled the scrolls before us. “That’s all I have to say to Baasch the Betrayer,” she spat. Without another word, she spun on her heel and walked out of the tent.
“I suppose that’s her answer, then,” Jarut said with a dark grin. “What about you, Elden?”
“I don’t know,” I answered, defeated. “After everything we’ve done, I don’t know where to go from here.”
“Forward,” he answered. “You have to keep moving forward, no matter what. We’re only truly defeated when we give up.” My eyes fell to the floor as I fought to suppress my immediate instinct, but he saw through me immediately. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
I bit my lip in a final moment of resistance, then let out a ragged sigh. “Part of me wants to go home to Amaya and run away with her...to just leave this all behind and forget what I’ve done.”
“If we don’t stop him now, Baasch will take Alderea. At that point, he’ll control the two largest countries in the world.” He spoke slowly and gently, as if to a young child. “Where will you run?”
“You’re right,” I admitted after exhausting all other possible options silently in my head. “It’s up to us.” I met his gaze, and his resolute eyes filled me with confidence. “You really think we can do this, don’t you?”
“Yes,” he answered immediately, “I do. With the three of us working together, nobody can stand in our way. Not even Baasch.”
“Baasch the Betrayer,” I murmured, shaking my head.
Jarut placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Gather your things, Elden. We have a long ride ahead of us.”
***
8. OURS
The efficiency of the construction crew was a magnificent sight to behold. The main force of workers dug out a roped-off section of land that would eventually become the house, while others hauled off the excess dirt for use on other projects. Giant slabs of rock and mountains of bundled timbers sat beside the pit on large stone rollers, ready to be moved at a moment’s notice. In the time it took for us to arrive, share a brief greeting with the foreman, and find a spot to survey the work that was out of the way, the clearing transformed from untouched wilderness to the beginnings of a home.
All of us elected to spend our time at the worksite, both for the chance to give input on the building process and to watch the crew work. Marten couldn’t help but walk the grounds to keep a close eye on the construction, and Marin followed closely behind him with a seemingly never-ending supply of questions about their soon-to-be-established business. Hana brought along her knitting supplies and was happy to sit on the driver’s bench of the wagon, working away at her current project from an elevated vantage point from which she could watch her husband’s meanderings. Lia and I sat in the grass at the edge of the clearing, following the various tasks of the workers with great interest.
I quickly learned that I had overestimated my knowledge on the topic of building houses. While I had initially assumed that the process of setting the foundation was a simple matter of digging a hole and fitting it with quality construction materials, the intricate level of detail we observed proved me entirely wrong. We watched with fascination as the workers meticulously graded and packed the earth at the bottom of their newly dug pit multiple times, then lined the surface with fresh, finely crushed gravel. Only then did they begin the process of lowering the massive stone slabs into the hole, making sure to thoroughly coat each edge with a thick layer of sticky black mortar. Sturdy support beams were fitted into perfectly shaped holes in the stone floor at regular intervals, creating a grid of vertical timbers that would eventually support the first-story floor.
The foundation was finished by the time the sun set, and we returned to town to find Elise waiting for us on her front steps. She welcomed us inside to a dinner table covered with food and drink, which consistently grew fuller as Bella appeared from the kitchen with even more platters and tankards. Over the course of the meal, Elise asked a multitude of questions about our experience with the workers, pushing us for details on their efficiency and adaptability. When she was satisfied that the project was proceeding as she expected, our conversation took on a more jovial, lighthearted tone, and we ate and drank together well into the evening.
As our visit wound down, Elise made an excuse to head back to her office with the increasingly flimsy promise to return afterwards, and we said our goodnights. Before she left, I inquired about where in town I would be able to buy a notebook and pen, which was met with a hearty laugh; she showed me to a small office behind the kitchen that was lined floor-to-ceiling with bookshelves filled with notes of various sorts, and I was told I could use anything that didn’t already contain writing. After an impressively long search through stacks of paper covered with records, diagrams, and hastily scrawled notes, I was able to find an empty notebook bound with metal lashes on one edge, as well as multiple inkwells and quills.
Lia and I returned to our bedroom for the night and began our next phase of planning. I drew diagrams of the various fittings and techniques we had seen, while Lia wrote a detailed list of the materials we would need and the order in which we would need them. She wrote her notes in the leatherbound journal that she had carried on all of our adventures, and she became amusingly defensive whenever I asked to reference her information. When pressed on the issue, she refused to hand the diary over, opting to instead dictate the necessary information aloud with a comical scowl. I qu
ickly lost focus in favor of teasing her, and we gave up the task altogether soon after.
The following day provided even more new lessons. Due to Marten’s insistence on involving himself in the project, we were privy to a detailed explanation of each step in the process as he and the foreman chatted on their rounds. First, metal rods affixed a wooden sill to the stone slab walls of the basement, which became the framing for the rest of the day’s work. I began to create a rough sketch of what our potential house would look like as the building process continued in front of us, while Lia wrote down the dictated steps verbatim. After a day filled with lessons on joists, support beams, and cantilevers, we had a satisfactory plan for our house’s foundation written in full detail between our two notebooks.
I was continually surprised by how quickly the work on the Corells’ house advanced. With the basement and framing finished, it only took two more days of work to finish the project. I started the following day with notes on how the floor filled in over the frame, and by the time I had finished drawing, half of the walls had already been erected. With the floor in place, Marten, Hana and Marin walked through the skeleton of the house and gave their input on which rooms should go where. The left half was divided into three bedrooms, one large master room and two smaller guest rooms across the hall, while the right side was left mostly open like their original home in Tolamar, with a spacious living room leading to a dining room and kitchen.
As the workers laid overlapping slate roofing tiles on the last day of construction, a second full shipment of building materials arrived, just as Elise had promised. The foreman did his best to reassure Marten that his house had been built exactly as planned and the extra delivery was clearly a mistake that we wouldn’t be charged for. Marten, having been informed of our plan, assured the clearly distressed foreman that they could leave the materials where they were delivered for the time being; we would take up any issues of returning or buying the excess delivery with Three Barrels directly.
Restart Again: Volume 3 Page 16