by Ross Turner
“Ayva.” Isabel replied, her voice wavering slightly, heavy with emotion. Zanriath realised at last what Isabel had meant.
Their dear friend had become much more the Saviour than they could ever have imagined. All around the small island that had for so long been the scene of such pain and suffering, the crashing waves subsided and the sharp rocks seemed somehow less menacing.
Then, next to Ayva amidst the light, three other figures began to take shape: one a dragon, one a phoenix, and one a gryphon.
Ormath stood exactly as Zanriath always remembered Him, His kind and wise face beaming down proudly at His disciple, at His son. His eyes were golden, matching Zanriath’s own and Isabel’s amulet.
Koack stood tall, and looked at the two mortals before Him with both satisfaction and delight. His impressive wings were covered with golden feathers gleaming in the same radiance as Ayva, Her smile still beaming. Ayva looked out of place stood next to the glorious phoenix, but also strangely at home, as if She’d always belonged there with Her brothers.
And Enthel, the Gryphon, with the head and wings of an eagle and the body of a lion, looked ferocious; mirroring the characters of those they had seen in Hinaktor. But even He, with His warrior’s stance and figure, powerful muscles rippling, looked delightedly at Zanriath and Isabel. He was taller than the others and Isabel sensed somehow that He was the oldest of them, followed by Ormath, and then Koack, and now of course Ayva. She didn’t know how she knew that, or what it meant, but she did.
Zanriath looked across at her with an expression that reiterated his thoughts just before they’d left Rilako. She had no reason to know, or at least no reason as of yet, but somehow she still did.
Isabel noticed all of a sudden that Ayva too had wings sprouting up from behind Her shoulders. They were perfectly white and elegant, softly feathered and beautiful. Depozi had not had wings when she’d seen Him.
“He chose to discard them.” Koack explained softly to Isabel, answering her thoughts. “But it mattered not, as now we welcome our new sister to our side.” The words and presence of all four Gods gave Isabel a feeling of fulfilment in her task. Enthel was next to speak, answering her thought in the same way Koack had done.
“Congratulations Isabel.” His voice was deeper and rougher than the others, but still affectionate. “And you too young master Zanriath. You have both done yourselves and us proud.”
“What happens now?” Isabel asked aloud this time.
“Now you get to go home Isabel.” Ayva replied, Her soft voice touching Isabel’s heart. “Whether you still see my Isle as your home will be up to you.”
“Your Isle?”
“Indeed.” Ormath spoke now, sounding exactly as Isabel remembered Him from Dragon’s Peak. “Land shall henceforth be known as the Isle of Ayva. She is its saviour.” Tears welled in Isabel’s eyes - tears of happiness. She doubted she would return to the Isle, as she had lost so much there, but she knew with Ayva watching over it, the people would recover well and at least have a chance to live happily once more.
Isabel looked to Zanriath at her side. Through everything that had happened, still as her one true companion, he had held strong. And in doing so she had gone from having many companions, to fewer friends, to now, one true love.
“So where will we go?” Isabel asked Ayva, taking Zanriath’s hand in hers.
“Where does your heart want to go Isabel?” Ayva kind words passed Her shimmering lips as She began to fade.
“Wait!” Isabel said urgently. “Don’t go!”
“I can’t go Isabel, remember?” Ayva reminded her kindly. “I’m always going to be here.” And following Her words each of the other three Gods thanked Isabel and Zanriath.
Now their tasks had come to an end, Isabella the Eternal and Timeless Zanriath were free from the burdens they had carried from a time before they’d even been born.
Isabel realised it wasn’t just the Gods shimmering and disappearing, but looking down at her own hand clasped tightly in Zanriath’s, they were too.
“Where are we going?” She asked quickly, knowing that wherever they ended up they would not be able to leave once Compii Tower was sealed once again.
“Where do you want to go Isabel?” Ayva voice sounded more distant now and echoed through her thoughts.
“Home.” Isabel whispered quietly, knowing they would still hear her. “I just want to go home.”
It seemed everything would be alright after all.
Epilogue
The stone house was very unlike to the others on the island. It wasn’t a towering structure like most of the buildings in Rilako, but much smaller and more homely, rather similar to the house Isabel had lived in for years with her mother and father in Aproklis.
It had neat square windows set evenly either side of the door and vines crept audaciously up the walls. It was squared and the stone was smooth, with an arched, dark wooden door set perfectly in the centre. Either side of the pathway leading to the door the garden blossomed red and green and purple and yellow and blue, with coloured petals and neat bushes lined perfectly before the humble abode.
Isabel approached the house with Zanriath at her side, his golden eyes loving and without burden as they now always were, matching perfectly the jewel set at her neck.
It had been four years since Isabel’s fateful confrontation with Depozi, and for the most part Tamarack had recovered well. On the Isle of Ayva the population was slowly recovering. Similarly in Hinaktor the Southern Armouries had taken heavy casualties, but now finally new talents were emerging and developing ever stronger and lighter weapons and armour than before.
The vast forests of Vak’Istor were almost fully healed from the onslaught they’d suffered protecting Isabel and her companions, though the deepest of the scars had not yet faded, and only few lives had been lost.
Across the four islands it was not only the people that were recouping, but the animals too had begun a slow but steady recovery - those that had managed to survive the near extinction. Such recovery was evident already in Rilako as in the sunlight that cast its warmth down upon Isabel and Zanriath, deer and rabbits were out grazing in the rolling hills on lush grass that yet even still remained ownerless and free from boundaries of any kind. Such freedom Isabel had only just discovered, and she wished to grasp a tight hold of it, for as long as she was allowed.
Kalaris had burned to the ground on that critical night so long ago, leaving nothing standing. Isabel felt a heavy responsibility for the lives of those poor townsfolk, who only died in the boy’s attempts to find her and to make her suffer. They hadn’t needed to suffer too.
And so, partly as a result of that thick guilt, Isabel had chosen Rilako, much to the delight of Zanriath, who had always hoped he would be able to return home again one day. They had passed Still Waters and crossed the River Avrik, heading for the ruins of Kalaris, sitting silently and wistfully at the base of the Kalaren Peaks.
When Isabel and Zanriath first arrived at the site where Kalaris had once stood, they wondered if they had made the right choice, or if the task they had set themselves was simply too great. Nothing had been left standing. All buildings had been burned to the ground and were nothing more than ashes and smouldering remains. The few people that the demons had not eaten had been thrown into the flames and little was left of them beside a few charred carcasses.
As the couple set about clearing the site, attempting to erase all evidence of the brutal attack, they received a comforting surprise. One by one, villagers that had escaped the fires and the demons had fled to the Kalaren Peaks, and had not been pursued. The demons had not after all been targeting them.
In total seven villagers returned to the site and found Isabel and Zanriath. And as Isabel and Zanriath greeted each one with more delight, they realised that, even after everything that had happened here, what Ben and Zhack had died for years ago, most definitely still remained. There was hope for Kalaris.
And that hope had proved to hold true Isabel realised as she s
tood holding her husband’s affectionate hand. Amongst those seven there was a carpenter, a stonemason, a nurse, and four farmers. Isabel decided that she most definitely could not, and absolutely would not, brush that one aside as coincidence.
The home they had built, with help from those escapee villagers, she now held dearly in her heart. It was her haven from everything that had happened in her world. Her hopeful escape from the sad realities she had had to face. Zanriath shared with her these realities, spreading the remainder of their burdens and, over time, lessening them to the point where they were but memories.
Their small stone refuge was central to Kalaris, which was now beginning to flourish once more. They started initially with only nine people, and only four years later it was now home to almost fifty. Some had heard of, and probably seen the attacks, and had come to the villager’s aid. Some had helped in construction, others in trade, and some had simply come to see if they could offer assistance and, upon helping rebuild the ruined town, had decided to stay, not wanting to leave the tight knit community.
In the shadow of the Kalaren Peaks it sprouted into a content and prosperous village; Rilako’s haven from any outward evil it would seem.
Isabel and Zanriath were happy and now had each other, which at least partially made up for the loss of their own families. And it seemed that Ayva too had been gifted with a new family. Isabel could only hope that Ben and Zhack, wherever they were, had found some semblance of happiness too.
They lived as a central part of the community they’d created and were loved and valued for everything they had given for Tamarack. The people too were happy, as most are when they are fed and warm and safe.
It was a good time.
As the glorious evening sun tumbled down once again towards the horizon and gave in to the darkening twilight, Isabel wormed her way into her husband’s arms and watched the sky contentedly. It was only a small thing, but it meant a great deal to the beautiful young lady, and indeed also to the young gentleman who had given himself to her. So even still, they found themselves in that position almost every night, sharing some time alone.
The final streaks of orange and yellow stretched out above them and across the endless open meadows of lush grass swaying gently in the calm breeze. Isabel noticed that several others were outside witnessing the sunset, as if for some reason this particular sundown was particularly significant.
Finally the light succumbed and the golden streaks of fading orange struck high up into the sky as the sun disappeared completely, leaving only those telltale splashes of colour to hint at the magnificence that lay just beyond the fall of the horizon.
Not long after their return to Kalaris the knowledge of their success and their whereabouts had spread throughout Rilako like wildfire, and before long stories had been told and re-told and embellished and told some more of their great quest. Children would ask their parents and their grandparents to tell them the story time and time again and soon, as the full tale was rather in depth, it would be saved for special occasions, and, as is often the way, the correct recital of it became a rarity, and something to be cherished.
Isabella the Eternal and Timeless Zanriath became folktale saviours. Loved and even sometimes feared for their power throughout Rilako, and even throughout Tamarack, having left their mark on the memories of so many. Some of which they may never even speak to again.
Their tasks had been completed and, at least for now, their life together could calm and settle, though somehow they both knew that more still would be asked of them in years to come.
Kalaris was their new home and Isabel came to find herself more at home there than she had ever been anywhere else. She recalled yet again looking back to Aproklis the first time she had left with Zanriath, now so long ago, and yearning for it. But the second time she had been glad to leave. Because, somehow, in all that had happened, everything had still worked out for the best, and finally she was happy.
She looked out to the east and saw the tower of Still Waters kissing the horizon, and she remembered too the lake - the perfectly calm water, and the demons, hundreds of malevolent green eyes yearning for her soul, the slimy touch grasping her fingers. She shuddered.
And then for some reason she thought of the demon she had killed in Compii Tower. She remembered it crashing into the water and its weakened mind being infected by the Souls of the Ocean, and how she had seen them, felt them. The thought made her look beyond Still Waters and even further.
Though she could not see it, she imagined the ocean, and the mist, and the souls. She realised it was the souls that had really been the cause of all of Tamarack’s pain. Was that what they had wanted all along? They had tricked Depozi and infected his mind, and they had almost infected hers too. She gasped quietly, as again she saw them, writhing in the water for an eternity, unable to escape.
It was only the oceans that now remained untouched, and no one could change that fact; even the Gods had been forced to create Compii Tower to avoid them.
Her thoughts spiralled as she caught glimpses of herself surrounded by the Souls of the Ocean and the many countless secrets that surely lay concealed in their merciless and unending waters.
Thank you for reading The Kingdom of Tamarack
I hope you enjoyed it
Look out for
The Souls of the Ocean
Book Two
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