What Once Was One (Book 2)

by Marc Johnson

  The princess jumped at me and wrapped her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly. “I’m going to miss you, Hellsfire.”

  My body froze, knowing this was entirely inappropriate, but I also knew this would be the last time I would see her. I bit my lip and let myself be taken into her arms. I closed my hands around her waist and inhaled the sweet scent from her hair. “Not as much as I’ll miss you.”

  We clung to each other for several long seconds, the only two people in the world. That warm feeling in my heart would never burn as bright without her.

  Krystal let go and put a gloved hand to my face. I nuzzled up against it. “Take care, Hellsfire, and be safe. Goodbye, hero.” She pulled her hand away and walked back toward the keep.

  My fingers lingered on the cheek she had touched. “Goodbye, beautiful.”

  “Come on, lad,” Jastillian said. “If we were in Erlam, I’d buy you the strongest drink in all the land. One you could drown your thoughts in.”

  “After you vomit,” Prastian said.

  Jastillian laughed. “Well, there is that. I’m sure you can handle it, Hellsfire.”

  “If you want something sweeter that doesn’t leave a massive headache, there is a place in Sharald I can take you to,” Prastian said. “It lacks the strength of the dwarven drink, but it makes up for it in taste.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I’ll have to take you up on your offer.”

  As we approached the castle’s walls, Jerrell and half a dozen guards blocked our path. I worried they were going to try something before I left. Prastian and Jastillian tried to step in front of me in case they did, but I stopped them.

  “Hellsfire,” Jerrell said. “Not all of us agree with the king’s decision.” Those with him nodded, but those still at their posts glared at me. “You fought with us and helped us seize Alexandria back from Premier.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Take care, Hellsfire.”

  “You too.”

  I took one last lingering look at the keep. “Take care, Krystal,” I said under my breath. I pulled up my hood and disappeared into Alexandria.

  CHAPTER 16

  On the way south, we stopped in the elves’ home of Sharald. While Prastian, Demay, and Behast needed to report to King Sharald and we also had to resupply, we went there for another reason—information.

  Alexandria was founded after the War of the Wizards to guard Northern Shala from the creatures in the Wastelands of Renak. Because the city was built after the Great Barrier was erected, its library focused on the history of the war and information on Northern Shala and the Wastelands. It held very little information about Southern Shala.

  Sharald was an ancient city, far older than Alexandria. Even before the Great Barrier was erected, Sharald had established itself as one of the first major cities in Northern Shala. The first King Sharald had even met Renak once. Though we didn’t know if any information we gained in Sharald would still be useful, it was still the best place to start.

  We were still heading towards Southern Shala, but my plan was to go to Fairhaven, the city where the Elemental Council should be. They had to be warned about Premier and about Renak’s threat, and they might have a lead on where the Book of Shazul was. I also wanted to ask them about a cure for Krystal. Even though she and I couldn’t be together, I still wanted to see if there was any way to reverse the curse. Better yet, I could find Premier and torture the information out of him.

  While I considered Prastian, Demay, and Behast to be close friends and had cherished their company, expertise, and advice, there were times when I remembered they were elves and how different they were from me.

  When we traveled through the forests, because of their green skin color, the elves appeared to vanish. They walked with ease and surefootedly, too, barely making a sound among the leaves, fallen twigs, and brush. The elves were so comfortable with the forest that they had constructed Sharald around that idea. Unlike the humans or dwarves, who bent the land around them, the elves built their entire city around the forest so they wouldn’t damage it.

  We approached Sharald by strolling along the well-traveled path leading to the city, the soft grass brushing our feet. Occasional shafts of sunlight pierced the cool, leafy canopy above us. Trees a hundred feet high loomed above us, their limbs as big as my waist. Nestled in the limbs were homes and shops. Rope bridges with wooden slats were strung between them. I would have worried about the group of four elven children chasing each other across one of them, fifty feet above the ground, but I knew from my last visit that those rickety-looking bridges were pretty strong. Still scary, though, if you weren’t born an elf, lacked balance, and hated heights.

  I tore my gaze away from the homes in the trees and brushed aside the long branch of a cedar tree. Not all of Sharald’s buildings were high above the ground. We traveled along a road that was wide enough for two carts to roll alongside each other and walked through the marketplace. An elf in front of a forge stopped hammering and wiped his sweaty forehead. Not far beyond the marketplace was the archery range. The small elves took aim with their bows a hundred yards away from their targets. All their shots struck the center of the target with repeated accuracy.

  As fascinating as Sharald was, it was always their royal castle that I admired the most. I was probably the only one who could truly appreciate it, because I saw the powerful and ancient magic that had gone into its construction, and still radiated from it to this day.

  The castle’s magic struck me well before we reached it, growing more powerful with each step. I turned to my friends, wondering how they could be oblivious to such a thing.

  The large dome-shaped building towered in the middle of the city. When we reached it, its potent magic enveloped me, washing over me like a morning’s shower.

  All people had a piece of mana inside them that they carried around. Elves primarily had green mana—the mana of the earth and land. That was the reason they were so good with the land. The dome beat with that mana as if it was the heart of the city and its people.

  I gazed at the hardened vines and twisted branches that wound their way into the dome. Before we entered, I traced my fingers over them, wondering how such a grand place could be crafted. This ancient castle had been standing since the War of the Wizards, yet none of its branches were rotten or brittle, and none of its green color was lackluster. I slapped my hand across the intricately woven branches, feeling the sting of the blow but also how strong the structure was.

  We met King Sharald in his library. The king had maps unfolded and scrolls unrolled, and books were scattered across the tables. We learned that from the time the king had received Prastian’s message, he had been preparing for us. He and his elves had been scouring the archives for every bit of information about Southern Shala they thought might help in our mission.

  “Where do we go?” Demay asked, scrutinizing the old map of Southern Shala spread on one of the tables “It’s so big.”

  “We’ll have to get through the Ennis Mountain range first,” Jastillian said, crossing his arms. “I can guide us through part of it, but after the place where the Great Barrier once was, I have no idea where to go. We could get lost navigating those cave networks.”

  “Isn’t there a pass we could try?” I asked.

  “We could, but it’s treacherous. Worse than the Daleth Mountains, and I’ve only been over partway. I have no idea how bad the other half is, or if it’s guarded. The caverns would be better. No one would see us if we crossed that way, and it’s safer.”

  “Good thing you came here then,” King Sharald said, and smiled. He unfurled a map and placed a candlestick on one edge and a closed book on the other. Sharald motioned with his hand for us to come closer. We all peered at the parchment. Mountains were etched into it, and cave systems were tracked and labeled.

  “The Ennis Mountains,” Jastillian said, tracing his fingers over the edge of the map.

  “Exactly,” King Sharald said. “This map will guide yo
u through the caves to Southern Shala.”

  “I suggest you head to Fairhaven,” the king went on, thrusting his finger into Southern Shala’s map. “It was once a major city.”

  I nodded. “That’s where the Elemental Council and magical school was.” It was where I intended to go to warn Southern Shala of Premier, but also to get some guidance and help. I held no allegiances to either Sharald or Erlam. My goals might part us, and while I would miss my friends, Fairhaven was the place I needed to go.

  “Exactly. There were also a great many elves there once.” Sharald looked at his elves. “Make contact with our lost cousins there. They should be bound to help their fellow elves. I want you to gather as much information about them and Southern Shala as possible. Make them allies if you can.”

  Prastian nodded. “As you wish.”

  “Thank you for your help, Your Majesty,” I said and bowed my head.

  He put a finger up and gave me a mock angry look. “What did you say?”

  “Sorry. Sharald.”

  “Better.” Sharald smiled. “It’s been a pleasure, Hellsfire. This is a great opportunity to reconnect with people from the south. We have so much to learn from them, and them from us.” King Sharald took a deep breath then coughed. His eyes bulged against his elastic skin.

  Prastian rushed to him as support. “Majes—Sharald, are you all right?”

  Sharald wheezed for breath. He stopped, then gave a grin that made him look thirty years younger. “I will be, cousin.”

  I stared at the king of the elves, worrying about him. Would I lose him too? I had already lost Stradus and Krystal and I didn’t want to lose Sharald. He had pledged me support in helping Alexandria in the recent battle, and he understood me better than most. He didn’t judge or want anything from me. I kept failing people who trusted me.

  Sharald stood to his full elven height. “Tomorrow, you leave for Southern Shala, but tonight, relax. I’ll see to your supplies. You have a long journey ahead.”

  King Sharald left. Prastian and Demay followed him. Jastillian, Behast, and I all dispersed and went our separate ways.

  It wasn’t long before Prastian found me again. He led me to one of the venerable trees around Sharald. There were five of these great trees around the city. They stood out like pillars. Smooth staircases were carved inside the large trunks. There were other ways to get above the city. You could scramble up the trees or climb ladders, but if you were carrying something heavy, or if you weren’t born in a tree, this way would be easier.

  We climbed those spiral staircases. I stopped every so often to gaze out the open windows to admire the city. I wondered at it, seeing the city on the ground disappear while the one up above came into view. It was like stepping into an entirely different world. There were no roads, only rope bridges connecting everything.

  We didn’t climb the entire tree. We exited when we were twenty feet from the ground. I grasped onto the rope bridge until my hands drained of color. I lacked the surefootedness of the elves, and the bridge seemed far too rickety for my size. Prastian strolled across the bridge while I tiptoed onto it, worrying about how my weight shifted the bridge with each step. I felt like a leaf being blown in a wind, the way I swayed. Prastian looked back with an amused expression on his face.

  At the end of the bridge was an elven tree pub. Prastian stood outside, unable to stop smiling as he waited for me to catch up. The pub was carved into the large trunk of the tree. The sign of a mug and a frothy drink was carved above the entrance. Prastian opened the door for me and I went inside.

  The first thing I noticed was the smooth floor. I sighed when I realized that it was sturdy enough that even a large human like me wouldn’t fall through. The view from the windows along the sides reminded me how high up we were. I could spy other bridges and houses throughout the thickness of the trees. The sun radiated from the clear sky above.

  In the pub were six other elves. Five of them were scattered around the room, drinking and talking in small groups. The sixth was the bartender, at the far end behind the carved wooden bar. She finished crafting her concoction and served it to one of the customers. We walked to the bar and she gave me a youthful smile, but her light green eyes held wisdom. Because of how slowly they aged, it was always difficult to tell how old an elf was.

  “And what would you like?” she asked.

  Prastian stood next to me and said, “Eliana, I want you to give Hellsfire a Forest Sunset, and make it as strong as you can.”

  Eliana’s ears perked up. “Are you sure? I know he’s a wizard, but he’s still only human.”

  “I’m sure. I’ll see you later. Take good care of him, Eliana.”

  “I will.”

  I sat down on the stool and hunched over the bar, watching as Eliana reached underneath and pulled out two flasks with elongated necks. One bottle swirled with green liquid as bright as spring’s grass, with a minty scent. The other was like a bog, its dark green muck sticking to the bottle. I turned away in disgust. She poured the two liquids together and the thicker liquid crushed and overpowered the first one.

  Eliana stirred the drink and pushed it forward. “Here you go.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “What’s in it?” I tried not to wrinkle my nose at it.

  “Elf secret.”

  “Why’s it called a Forest Sunset? It doesn’t look like one.”

  “Drink it.”

  “All right.” I lifted the glass to my nose and stopped. The rancid smell made me want to put it back down. Eliana’s eyes were intent on me as she waited for me to swallow. I trusted Prastian and didn’t want to show any disrespect so I took a sip. Maybe it was one of those things that smelled bad but tasted good.

  It wasn’t. I couldn’t stop gagging and I put the drink down, having barely taken more than a sip. It was like drinking mulch. I shook my head. Elves must have different tastes than humans and enjoy eating leaves.

  Eliana laughed at me and took the glass away. She wiped up a few splatters that had struck the bar. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist.”

  I wiped my tongue with the back of my hand. “What do you mean?”

  “That wasn’t a Forest Sunset, or at least it wasn’t complete yet.” She smiled as she reached onto the bottom shelf and brought out a small, red vial. She dripped one drop into the glass. “Watch.”

  The dark green muck swirled like a river, faster and faster until it lost its heaviness. The movement stopped. The dark colors exploded, blossoming red, then orange. The liquid settled down and I sniffed it. An orchard-like smell tickled my nose.

  “Go ahead,” she said. “Taste it.”

  I gave her a sour expression.

  “Trust me. This time it’ll be different.”

  “All right.” I sipped at the drink in case she was playing another joke on me. It tasted like honey, and I guzzled it down. She was right. It was good.

  “Easy there,” Eliana said, touching my hand. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”

  “Thank you,” I said, wiping my mouth. “How come you didn’t think I could handle it before?”

  Eliana gave me a mischievous grin. “You’ll see.”

  I took another sip, allowing the liquid to dance around my mouth. I wondered what she meant. Bubbles rose up out of the bottom of the glass. They hovered and circled around my head. I stared at them, but neither Eliana nor any of the other elves seemed to notice. The bubbles burst, and when they did, little animals appeared.

  A tiny snake and a bird went at each other. The bird swooped down at the snake with its claws. The snake hissed and leapt up at the bird. When they clashed together, the bubbles vanished.

  My eyes crossed from staring at the space in front of my nose where the bubbles had once been.

  “What was that?” I asked. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

  “I didn’t see anything,” she said. “It’s different for everyone.”

  “Can I have another one?”

  “Of course, bu
t this time drink it slower. The more you drink, the worse it gets. Sometimes, people drink so much they become lost in a hallucinogenic stupor, but it’s far worse than any ale or wine.”

  I nodded. And Jastillian said the elves didn’t have anything as strong as the dwarves. He was wrong.

  I nursed my second drink, the newness of the hallucinations starting to wear off. I stared into my glass and thought of home. We were going to be passing through Sedah on our way to Southern Shala. It had been so long since I’d been there, and I had changed so much. I missed my mother, and quietly wished that I didn’t have these powers so I could have had a simpler life—one with far less heartache.

  Eliana pushed another drink in front of me. “Have another one and tell me what you see.”

  I glanced up at her. “All right.”

  That third one hit the spot. All sorts of weird things popped into view. It didn’t matter where I looked. Eliana didn’t help. She took out a coin and flipped it, making it dazzle like a sun from her hand. She even snapped her towel at me and it roared like a lion, nearly knocking me from my seat. Three Forest Sunsets and much laughter later, I had a visitor.

  “Sharald,” Eliana said as she cleaned a glass. “It’s a pleasure to see you again. I haven’t seen you this high in a while.”

  Sharald leaned against a chair and took a deep breath. “I much prefer the ground these days, but I came to find Hellsfire.”

  “Your Majesty,” I said, rising. I leaned against the bar as the world tilted into view. “You didn’t have to come all the way up here. I would have met you.”

  “Nonsense. I wanted one of Eliana’s delicious drinks, and I could use the exercise. I may be old, but I still love being in the trees.”

  I struggled to pull out a seat so Sharald could sit beside me.

  “How many of those have you had?” he asked.

  “Four.”

  “Six,” Eliana said.

  The king laughed and smacked his hand on the table. “Thankfully, Eliana’s place is near the great oak, lest you break your neck climbing down one of the ladders. But I understand your need to drink so many. Eliana, can I have one Winter’s Chill please?”