Starfall (The Fables of Chaos Book 1)

by Jackson Simiana

  Tomas burst out from the surface, taking a long, deep breath. Lynn popped up right next to him, her floppy hat now drenched.

  The two were out of breath but forced themselves to swim for the shore only a few metres away. It wasn’t a hard decision, as the water was so cold that it hurt.

  The pulled themselves out onto the rocky, snowy shoreline of the narrow river they had fallen into. Tomas slid onto his back, coughing up water and taking a much-needed rest as his body grew frigid and shook uncontrollably.

  Tomas chuckled to himself when he saw how far they’d fallen, grateful to be alive. On the other side of the river was a sheer cliff of rock with the old pipe jutting out of it halfway up. It was quite a fall.

  “That…was close…” Tomas huffed with a shivering smile.

  “Are you kidding me? Why didn’t you stop when I shouted?” Lynn shouted angrily, furiously trying to wring her clothes of the freezing water.

  “I couldn’t stop.”

  Lynn shook her head. “Now we will probably freeze to death.”

  She wasn’t wrong. Tomas felt his skin already going numb, goosebumps raising all over him as his muscles throbbed and trembled.

  “At least we landed in water. I can think of a thousand worse things to land in,” Tomas said, trying to break the tension upon realising how dire a predicament they were truly in.

  Lynn, scowling, could not help but smirk nervously as she shook her hair about like a wet dog. He was right- they had been very lucky.

  “I’m relieved you had a chance to wash that stink off you,” Lynn joked, trying to match Tomas’s adrenaline-fuelled relief to be alive.

  Tomas ripped his shirt off to squeeze it out.

  “Oh no, the satchel!” Lynn shouted suddenly, realising she had thrown it upon being flung from the pipe. “It’s got the tome in it!”

  Tomas looked about, spotting it slowly floating away down the river. He raced after it along the muddy bank, the freezing air nipping at his bare chest.

  Tomas took a long stick from the banks and was carefully able to fish it out, using the loop of the satchel as a snag.

  “Got it!” he said victoriously, pulling the heavy satchel back to the shore.

  Lynn appeared impressed as he went back and handed it to her. “Good catch,” she said, eyeing his shirtless body for a brief moment.

  Tomas, realising he was still without a shirt, spun around the other way, embarrassed, to continue wringing his shirt out. He blushed, realising he would have to take his trousers off too to get the water out.

  What’s better? Exposing myself to a strange girl, or freezing to death?

  Lynn opened the waterproof bag to check that the tome had survived the water. Thankfully, it had. Barely a drop had gotten into the satchel thanks to her throwing it as far out as she could when they had been flung from the pipe. It had not been completely submerged with her when she hit the water.

  “It’s safe,” she said with a sigh of relief, clutching the satchel in a sort of hug up to her chest.

  “You… you should get your clothes off too,” Tomas said, shivering.

  Lynn glared at him in disbelief.

  “To dry them out, I mean,” he added, correcting himself with chattering teeth. “It’s not going to get any warmer out here anytime soon.”

  Lynn snickered before pointing in the opposite direction down the river. “And what about that?”

  Tomas followed her gaze. Through the graceful rain of falling snow, deep into the dark pinewood forest, he thought he saw a glint of a flickering yellow light. And then another, and a few more after that. They couldn’t have been more than a mile away.

  “Torches?”

  “There must be people out here. They can help us!” Lynn said, placing the satchel over her shoulder and racing ahead without a second thought.

  Tomas caught her with an open hand to her arm before she took off. “We don’t know who or what that is. It could more of those… those things.”

  “I don’t know about you, but I didn’t see any of those creatures carrying lit torches,” Lynn said sarcastically.

  Tomas huffed. “They could be brigands, or bandits. Who knows?”

  Lynn shrugged, pulling out the dagger that Tomas had given her back at the Repository. “I’ll take my chances over hypothermia.”

  Hypo-what? He didn’t want to seem like a fool, so he kept his mouth shut.

  Lynn was noticeably freezing as she stepped past Tomas in the direction of the distant flames. He saw mist exiting her lips with each exhale. The wind, while gentle, was so cold that even with his clothes wrung out, his body was shivering and aching.

  Tomas decided it would be best to go with her. He finished rinsing what he could from his saturated clothes, hopping along after her as he tipped water from a boot at a time.

  The mix of snow and mud made the ground cold and slushy. The pine trees enclosing around them groaned as they swayed in the wind. The fires grew brighter as they got closer, sneaking through the long shadows cast by the forest.

  Tomas’s muscles cramped and his face was feeling numb. It was becoming painful to even walk as his legs stiffened.

  As they snuck between boulders and around the rough pine trunks towards the flickering lights, Tomas thought he could hear voices. He could not make out any words, just distant murmurs.

  It sounded like multiple people. Men… and women too. There were certainly other people around, although whether that comforted him or scared him, he could not say.

  Lynn was growing pale as she rubbed her shaking hands against her forearms, trying to create any warmth for herself that she could in the blistering cold.

  Despite his conflicting feelings for the woman, he did not enjoy watching her suffer. And there was no denying that the cold was quickly wearing him down as well.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get some help.”

  The pair shuffled through the ankle-high sludge of snow and wet soil as the trees grew sparser. Tomas could smell the thick scent of smoke from a woodfire.

  He saw shapes appearing by the lit torches as they approached… walls. There were structures ahead. Houses.

  But the cold was coming on faster than Tomas had expected. It stabbed at his chest, gnawed at his bones. He could feel his vision blurring and he was getting dizzy, his joints stiffening with each struggled step. His clothes felt solid, like ice against his skin. But he nonetheless pushed forward.

  Out from the forest they came, white as ghosts with what water remained on them from the river having frozen into ice crystals.

  The wind itself felt as frigid as the water, blowing clouds of snow through the air.

  A bunch of dark figures appeared before them, but he could not focus enough to see their faces. His head grew heavy, and he fell to his knees to catch what shallow breaths of air he could.

  “Please, h-h-help us,” Lynn begged, dropping the dagger from her twitching fingers, and stumbling forward towards the strangers.

  Tomas knew that if these people meant them harm, there would be nothing they could do to fight back.

  “What… what on Eos? Tomas? Tomas, is that you?” One of the strangers had called his name out. A man with a gruff voice.

  He tilted his head up, but saw nothing but swirling colours of black, grey, orange, and white.

  “Tomas? Is that you?”

  He swore that the voice sounded familiar. But before he could even begin to work out who it might have been, he felt his eyelids grow heavy and exhaustion take hold, falling to the ground unconscious.

  ※

  The next hour was a total blur.

  Tomas felt others carrying him. Rough fingertips, gloved hands.

  Warmth. He was startled as he was immersed in a sudden, comforting radiance, the exact opposite of the cold he had endured. Then softness as the bitter cold finally ended.

  Voices, lots of voices. Multiple people, men, and women. Even some children, he swore. No faces, though. Only swirling blurs of colour and darkne
ss.

  Tomas drifted in and out of consciousness until he was able to gather himself. He opened his eyes to see timber beams above him supporting a thatch roof, lined with layers of animal pelts for insulation.

  It was still night, but the room he was in had a gentle orange glow from a roaring hearth to his side. He turned his head, staring into the blazing flames. The heat was intense yet incredibly welcoming, like a dip in a hot spring.

  He was laying down naked on a makeshift bed, covered by furs and blankets;

  As he came to, his vision grew sharper, and his mind cleared. He made out the shape of Lynn, sitting upright next to him by the fire and sipping a cup of tea. She too was naked, swashed in a large fur blanket to cover herself with her tricorn hat placed in her lap. The chained vial swung from around her neck.

  Lynn looked down at him. “You’re awake! I was beginning to worry,” She almost sounded relieved.

  “What… happened?”

  “The cold got to you, but we reached this village just in time. Thankfully, these people brought us inside and warmed us up. They seemed to recognise you,” Lynn explained.

  “What? Who are they?” Tomas murmured, trying to get the strength to sit up.

  “Take it slow, you’ve been out for a little while. They are bringing us some soup, they will be back any moment.”

  Tomas eyed his surroundings nervously, still unsure. They were in someone’s house by the look of it, set up by the fire to fight away the cold that had nearly defeated them.

  The door swung opened, the wind outside now roaring. Two black silhouettes entered before latching the door shut.

  “You’re up! How are you feeling?” one of the figures said, slowly approaching. The fireplace fought the darkness away, illuminating the old woman’s face who had spoken.

  Tomas immediately recognised her, gasping as he did. “Old Bertha?”

  The woman knelt, handing Tomas and Lynn each a warm bowl of soup. She grinned as she nodded to Tomas, her smile accentuating her wrinkled face.

  “Drink this. It will help get you back on your feet,” she said. Tomas had grown up hearing that croaky voice every day as a child in Brittlepeak. He had not seen her since he had been conscripted to the king’s army with Rilan.

  Tomas was gobsmacked. “What are you doing here?!” he said.

  Lynn began slurping at her soup, not bothering with the spoon that had been offered.

  “I could ask you the same thing,” Old Bertha chuckled, sitting by the fire in a dilapidated chair.

  “We… I…” Tomas didn’t know where to even begin. “Where are we?”

  “You are home, Tomas,” Old Bertha said. Her smile revealed a set of brown teeth. “We found you on the edge of town as we were preparing for the coming blizzard. Half-frozen to death, you both were.”

  She was right- this was certainly her home. Tomas recognised the familiar, stale smells, the hanging herbs over the hearth, the old cookware and the dilapidated furniture.

  “This can’t be… we are in Brittlepeak?” Tomas said, baffled.

  As he thought about it, however, it began to make sense. His village was located beside Mooncrest Mountain, so when he and Lynn had escaped down through the drains, they must have somehow ended up coming out near his old home.

  What were the odds that they would happen upon his small home village in amongst all this mess?

  “They brought us indoors to warm us up,” Lynn said.

  “They?”

  Tomas looked back at the door to the house where the second figure still stood, cross-armed and hidden in shadow.

  “Never thought I’d be seeing you again,” the man in the dark spoke. His voice, while familiar, was callous.

  Tomas felt a chill run down his back that no cold could have brought on. The older man stepped into the light. Unshaven with a filthy face, a blood-stained apron and lifeless expression. Tomas gulped, averting his eyes straight away.

  “Father,” Tomas murmured.

  His acknowledgement was only met with a cold glare. He was probably just as surprised to see Tomas as Tomas was to be back home. Tomas had not warned his father that he was leaving Brittlepeak when he had been conscripted. He did not seem all that happy about it.

  “Why are you back in Brittlepeak?” his father snarled, stepping closer like a towering giant. Tomas shuffled back a little, feeling his childhood fears begin to creep back to life.

  “Come now, Evin, now is not the time to be hard on the boy,” Old Bertha said, gesturing for him to be seated.

  Evin ignored the old woman, staring down at his son. “No son of mine will ever be a deserter from the king’s army,” Evin threatened, clenching his fist. “What happened? Why’re you here?”

  Tomas could feel his throat closing, just like on that night. He tried to speak some words, any words, but all that came out were nervous breaths. “I… I…”

  Lynn interjected, choosing to answer for him. “He was on a mission to the Grand Repository.”

  Evin scowled at the girl, and then back at his son. His presence was so intimidating that Tomas could feel the urge to run and hide. Lynn looked to Tomas, raising her eyebrows, and nodding as if to tell him that he should explain for himself.

  Tomas gulped again to help clear his throat. “Aye… I was a part of a special unit sent to aid the Magisters at the Repository, father.”

  “Is that right?” Evin scoffed.

  “Rilan and I were chosen to lead the company to the mountain.”

  Evin looked around, shrugging sarcastically. “And where is your little friend now, then?”

  Tomas bowed his head, feeling the weight of the past few weeks sitting atop his shoulders. He found it difficult to mutter the words.

  “He’s gone,” Tomas muttered under his breath.

  “Gone? Gone where?” Old Bertha said with concern.

  “Dead.”

  Old Bertha gasped with a hand to her cracked lips. “Oh, goodness. No… no, that cannot be.”

  Brittlepeak being a modestly sized village meant that everyone knew everyone there. While not related by blood, Old Bertha had always been a trusting, caring guardian to both Tomas and Rilan growing up.

  Tomas continued. “The Repository came under attack. Lynn and I fled for our lives.”

  Evin simply rolled his eyes. “You expect me to believe all of that?”

  “It’s the truth,” Tomas said, still finding it tough to look his father in the eye. “We are all still in danger. We need to leave Brittlepeak.”

  The middle-aged man took another step closer to Tomas, and for a moment he swore he heard a lamb crying in the night.

  “What’s more likely?” Evin grunted, unblinking. “That my coward of a son was chosen for a special mission away from the invasion that brought him all the way back home, or that he fled from the war he was forced to fight, in the first chance he got?”

  Nobody uttered a word. Tomas kept his head bowed but could sense his father’s harrowing eyes burrowing into his skull from above.

  The silence was only disturbed by the crackling of the hearth fire as a log disintegrated before Lynn finally spoke.

  “What he says is true,” Lynn said. “We came under attack from some sort of predatory beasts and ghoulish creatures, the like of which I have never even read about before. Things not from here. Something terrible happened at the Repository, but your son saved my life.”

  Evin scoffed, before turning back towards the door to leave in a fit of rage at what he was hearing. “What son?”

  Those two words cut into Tomas’s chest like a knife through the ribs, yet he looked back up and stared down his father as he left the house, refusing to let him have the final win that time.

  No. I won’t let you hurt me again.

  The wind from outside roared like a tempered bear.

  Old Bertha got up to try and stop Evin from leaving but he had already shut the door before she could intervene.

  Lynn gazed over to Tomas sympathetically, although un
sure of what to say or do. He felt sweat against his brow, so he wiped it off before standing up, still speechless.

  “I brought you both some warm clothing to put on,” Old Bertha said, handing them each a pile of folded clothes. “The equipment you had on you is over by the door.”

  “Thank you for your hospitality,” Lynn said with a bright smile.

  “You saved our lives,” Tomas added.

  Old Bertha waved her hand. “And I’d do it again in a heartbeat for you, Tomas. You were always a good lad, always have been.”

  The two promptly got dressed beneath their furs. It was a nice change to have clean clothes for once. Tomas hadn’t realised how foul his old ones must have been, having fought in a battle and travelled across the kingdom without having the chance to wash properly.

  “I’m sorry about your father,” Old Bertha said, offering an outstretched hand.

  Tomas tightened his belt before patting her hand quickly and releasing it. “Some things will never change.” He then made his way towards the door, Lynn close behind.

  “Where are you going?” Old Bertha asked abruptly.

  “We have to leave,” Tomas said. “I can’t stay here, not with him.”

  “We need to find help,” Lynn added. “The Repository wasn’t the first attack. Your village might be in danger next.”

  “Oh, nonsense,” Old Bertha said. “Brittlepeak is a safe place. A very safe place, yes. The mountain side and pines protect us from everything. We are simple working folk; we have nothing here that an army could want.”

  “This is no army we are up against,” Tomas said as he tied his dried boots to his feet.

  “You can’t leave, anyhow! No way! The blizzard! You must stay here,” Old Bertha insisted.

  Tomas seized up upon realising something strange. The howling wind from outside, the incoming blizzard. It had all grown silent. Not just a temporary break in the storm. Dead silent.

  Tomas looked over to Lynn with an expression of fear as she picked up her satchel.

  “What is it?” she said.

  Tomas quietly unlatched the door, swinging it open. The night air was still chilly, yet no snow fell, and no wind blew. Plumes of smoke rose straight up from the chimneys of the scattered houses around the village. The pine trees stood dormant from their dancing.