“Their motivations shouldn’t come into it if they accomplish their goal. It must be devastating to know there’s nothing to go home to, especially if the fire was started intentionally like the rumors say.”
The two men wheeled the heavily laden cart out of the clinic and down the corridor, bickering the entire time. Kheled stopped the aide before she could escape with her task completed.
“Am I assisting with the relief operation?” he asked anxiously.
“What’re you talking about?” she replied, nervously staring after her steadily disappearing charges.
“The Council will, of course, send some form of aid to those affected by the fire. I assume that I’ll be part of it.”
The aide gave him an odd look before replying.
“I’ll look into it.”
She hurried after the departing cart, leaving Kheled alone for the first time in a week.
He flew into action, knowing that he had a limited amount of time. He shoveled medicines and burn salves along with a large pile of clean bandages into a small satchel and threw it over his shoulder. Donning his cloak, he stuffed its pockets with bottles of gut string, gauze, and pure alcohol. He was on his knees beside his cot, preparing to lift the mattress concealing the last piece of his accouterment, when a shadow fell across the sheets and a hand landed on his shoulder.
“Going somewhere?” a familiar voice asked.
Kheled grimaced. He sat back on his heels and looked up at Councilwoman Ferin.
“You came yourself?” he asked, feigning surprise. “They must really want me to stay.”
“We, Khel,” she gently reminded, “we don’t want you leaving. I came because sometimes it seems like I’m the only person in the city that you’ll listen to.”
“That’s because you’re the only one who even comes close to being worthy of respect.”
Ferin joined the healer on the floor and clasped her hands together.
“I need you to respect what I’m saying now and listen. The Council has decided that we’re staying far away from this outside world affair. Unless they come to us specifically asking for aid, the humans are on their own. That means that the city’s best healer cannot leave the confines of our walls to practice his art right now, no matter how much he might want to.
“And before you ask, I posted an entire platoon consisting of the best, most experienced warriors I could get to volunteer outside your clinic. That’s what’s keeping you here.”
Kheled’s lips tightened. His mind raced with protests and wheedling, but it would be useless to employ those against her.
“Fine.”
Ferin rapped her knuckles against the floor twice and rose.
“Don’t worry. You’re not stuck here forever, just long enough for the forest fire to die out.”
She marched to the clinic’s exit, but Kheled stopped her with one final question.
“Was the decision unanimous?”
Ferin was caught off guard at first, but she soon comprehended what the healer was really asking.
“Of course not, Khel,” she said sadly. “It never is.”
And she was gone, leaving him alone again. He brushed invisible specks of dirt off of his lap.
They thought they could keep him here against his will? Fine. It’d be ever so much fun to prove them wrong.
Chapter Five
Celebratory music danced gaily through the air to our distant table, and our guests bobbed and swayed along with it. Taking in the familiar faces, people from either side of the spectrum of wealth who’d seen us through numerous difficulties, I was content. The war was over. It was time to celebrate life and peace and to forget the horrors of battle.
I leaned against my new wife and sipped from a large glass of potent wine.
“Do you think you’ll need all of that to help you once we’re alone tonight?” Lirilith asked teasingly.
I blushed and put the glass down. Clearing my throat, I gestured for the band to take a brief pause.
“My wife has expressed concerns with my level of inebriation. She thinks I’ve had too much to drink!” I shouted to the crowd. “Shall I prove her wrong?”
A raucous cheer answered me. Gracefully, I extended a hand to Lirilith. She accepted, and I led her into an empty circle in the middle of the crowd. The band picked up with a softer tune. I started slowly, allowing her to collect herself as needed, before increasing the pace. Our dance became a merry chase as we threaded back and forth through the edges of the crowd. It was absolute magic, the happiest moment of my life.
Eventually, the song came to a close, and Lirilith caught me. I twirled her round and tugged her close, her face inches from mine. Beaming uncontrollably, I kissed her, basking in the glow of love from both my friends and my wife.
Three weeks had passed since Eledis’ departure, and Raimie adjusted to the change slowly. Every time he thought he’d adapted, he found himself outside the old man’s cottage, raising his hand to knock.
He’d been spending too much time inside that tiny, musty building, desperate to find some mention of mysterious figures of light and dark transcribed in Eledis’ library. He’d hoped to find one scrap of information buried in the stacks of papers and books, but he found not even a fragment of a segment that came close to describing events similar to what he was experiencing.
He was barely keeping a lid on his panic. The figures he’d reluctantly named Bright and Dim had appeared a dozen or more times during the two weeks following Eledis’ departure, mostly at night or while on hunting trips with his father.
Raimie willfully kept to his plan to ignore the problem even when that problem made increasingly obnoxious attempts to communicate. The encounters usually ended quickly when Dim attempted to take out his frustration on Bright, but in the last week, the anomalies had been following him constantly, only flickering out of existence for brief periods of peace and calm.
He couldn’t handle the stress of faking an air of normalcy while he had two obvious oddities perpetually crowding the edges of his vision for much longer. The increase in appearances had almost convinced him that his mind had cracked, and Raimie was quite aware that his initial plan of ignoring the problem wasn’t fixing it.
His father must’ve noticed that something was wrong because Aramar had relegated his son to the farm, to dressing carcasses and other household chores that might better keep him occupied. While he was extraordinarily grateful to his father for forcing him into tasks that numbed his mind, Raimie was also apprehensive about the conversation he knew was coming. He’d no wish to confess this particular problem to his father.
On top of all of the recent stress, the nightmares that Raimie had dealt with since he was a child had increased in frequency as well. He’d tried to sleep during the first weeks where Bright and Dim made only spotty appearances, and once or twice, he had blissfully undisturbed dreams, allowing his brain access to much-needed rest. Most nights, however, he’d wake in a cold sweat from the familiar nightmare of becoming trapped: tied down, and screaming.
The lack of sleep was why he drooped over yet another fruitless search of Eledis’ library instead of preparing for dinner. The line of script in front of him slipped from his mind every time he tried to read it, and his eyes insisted on sliding closed. The fire was so warm and inviting and in his exhaustion, the paper on the table below looked like the softest pillows imaginable. He gave in, and his face smacked into the inked page, a snore gently roaring from his mouth.
* * *
Raimie was suspended in black far from humanity.
“Hello!” he yelled, hoping someone would answer.
No one replied. He tried to sit up, but his body wouldn’t respond to his commands.
“Damn it, not again,” he muttered before screaming for help. “HELLO!! Is ANYONE there? Anyone at all!!”
He squirmed against the invisible bonds holding him down, panic and claustrophobia overtaking him.
“Do you require assistance?” a smooth vo
ice asked.
“And finally something in this nightmare changes,” Raimie remarked to himself with astonishment before asking, “Who’s there?”
“My name is not important. Of greater significance is what is happening to you. Would you like me to help you escape?”
“What do you think? I’ve been trapped in this awful place every night for I don’t know how long. Yes! I’d like to get out! Now!”
“Then allow me to assist you. What is your name?”
“I’m Raimie. What should I call you?”
“I told you. My designated identifier does not matter.”
A cloaked and hooded individual leaned over Raimie’s head and flicked out a gleaming knife. He reached toward the young man’s left hand. For an instant, Raimie was sure that the stranger was going to slice into his flesh and leave him bleeding. A scream built in the back of his throat, but it remained unsung when the knife cut the unseen restraint over his wrist. The bonds blanketing his body immediately loosened.
“Allow me to pose a question, Raimie. Do you really find it feasible to remain on the family farm for the rest of your life? Not counting looming starvation, I am certain that something vicious and violent is coming your way. It will be compelled to approach with the abundance of magic blossoming in these woods recently. If you stay in one place, you are headed for pain.”
The stranger cut into the lowest of the bonds holding Raimie’s forearm down. He flinched with every flick of the knife. The sensation of drops of blood rolling down his fingers was strong, even knowing he hadn’t been wounded.
“I desire your friendship, Raimie. I could help you with your troubles, both present and future.”
“I honestly d-don’t think I want to be your friend,” Raimie stammered.
“Truly?” the stranger stopped mid-slice. “Well, it is solely a suggestion. Keep it in mind when you wake up.”
“If I could wake from this nightmare, I would,” Raimie mumbled as the stranger drifted away.
“WAKE UP!”
* * *
Someone had hold of Raimie’s left arm, and in his half-woken state, he found no reason for alarm. Then, whoever it was tugged fiercely on it, almost wrenching it from its socket while scraping his back along a hot wood floor, and he jerked upright, pulling his limb free and gasping. He immediately hacked the gasp back up, trying to expel the lungful of smoke he’d inhaled.
He sucked in more smoke with every breath he took in between coughs. He’d thought he had a handle on panic after three straight weeks of it, but the real and present fear of suffocation was as debilitating as it had ever been.
A cloth pressed against his mouth, and he was pulled back to the ground. With those two actions, he found a source of clean air. Eledis’ cottage sparkled red, orange, and yellow through his watering eyes.
“We have to get out of here! Stay low, and follow me.”
Raimie coughed into the cloth and flipped over to crawl after his rescuer. They dragged themselves over the cottage’s threshold none too soon as the roof beams above the door collapsed seconds after Raimie’s feet cleared it. He flew on all fours across the dirt, collapsing after quickly.
Eledis’ hut blazed under the cloudy night sky, but it wasn’t the only thing burning. The entire forest seemed to have been caught in the conflagration. Flames consumed the trees surrounding the clearing and greedily devoured every wooden structure in sight. Raimie’s home was hidden from view, but he had only one guess concerning its fate.
“Take this!” Aramar yelled over the fire’s roar.
His father tossed him a knapsack quite similar to that which his grandfather had taken upon his departure. His bow and a sealed quiver followed soon after.
“We have to get to a creek or a stream. The road’s blocked, we’re nearly surrounded by the fire, and water might be the only thing that can protect us from this inferno,” Aramar shouted. “You know the woods better than I. Can you guide us?”
Raimie craned his head toward the stars to make sure he had his bearings.
“I’ll try.”
He took the lead, plunging through the least flame heavy section of the forest’s edge. Once they were surrounded by the trees, the two men ran when they could and crawled when smoke swirled too thickly.
Raimie couldn’t clear the cough eating up his lungs, and he lost track of how many times they’d been blocked by an impassable wall of fire, but these distractions were welcome. They kept him from seeing the blackened stump on the trail as the monster he’d defeated so many times as a child or the old oak consumed in red and orange as the quiet place he’d ascend when he needed peace and solitude. The roaring blaze transformed his childhood playground into an obstacle, something that kept him from survival.
At one point, he completely lost his way, familiar landmarks lost to the disaster, and froze with indecision. Dim flickered into existence, potently outlined by the conflagration’s illumination, and groggily pointed to Raimie’s right, hand wavering with effort. The young man cocked his head, a question forming in his head, and Dim nodded. He turned right. Dim appeared twice more when he wasn’t certain of his surroundings, each time with greater unsteadiness, and with the aberration’s help, Aramar and his son made it to deep, flowing water.
Raimie stared in horror at the roiling surface of the stream. The spring melt must be upon them because the mellow creek that normally occupied these banks had transformed into a rapid, tumultuous riot of water.
They’d need to follow the river’s flow if they hoped to reach the grasslands at the mountain’s base. He stretched out over the water’s surface, hoping against hope that they might hike along the banks, and groaned at the sight of flames hugging the stream’s edge not far from their location. His heart fluttered nervously at the idea of floating in such angry water. It would drag him under just like before!
The water of the well closed over his head before he could think to breathe. His arm dangled uselessly from the multiple slaps the walls had given it on his way down. When he tried to use it to swim, pain nearly made him faint. Blinking stars away, he kicked and somehow managed to surface.
A face blinked down at him from the precipice, and he tried to scream before the water sucked him in again. Thrashing his legs, he struggled to keep his head afloat.
“Mama!” he wailed. “I can’t-”
The water claimed him once more, and when he fought free of it, he coughed and sputtered, sobbing loudly.
“Mama, help!”
A rope splashed beside him, and his mother gingerly climbed over the edge. She hurried to descend, but at her current pace, she’d never reach him before he tired and sank to the well’s floor. He grabbed the rope with his good arm, and a shiver of motion sped up the hemp. It jostled his mother from the wall and bucked her off. Shrieking, she fell, her head smacking the wall before her body flopped on top of his.
“We’ll have to swim,” he shouted, turning back to his father.
Aramar had already pulled his pack around to hug his chest, tightened its straps, and was working to secure his bow as closely as he could to his back.
“I know,” the older man yelled back.
He approached the edge.
“Remember, try to keep on your back, feet first and knees bent so that you can kick off of hidden rocks instead of bashing your head on them.”
“I remember how to avoid drowning in rapids, dad. I’ve had plenty of practice. What do you think I did for fun growing up here? Get going!” Raimie waved off his father’s exasperated look. “I’ll be right behind you. Good luck!”
Aramar waded as far into the flow as he could without the water ripping his feet out from under him and slowly lowered his body into its embrace. The torrent swept him away faster than Raimie would have liked.
The young man fumbled with his knapsack’s straps, dragging it into place in front of him. He could feel the seconds ticking by, but he made sure anything that was loose on his person was secured.
As he tautened
the last strap, a loud crack and whistle rose above the crackle of flames.. A tree crashed to the ground, careening in between him and his greatest chance of survival. He spun round, hoping for a way out, and found himself trapped. A wall of flames engulfed the forest crowding the water, and either end of the felled tree disappeared into the fire. The tree itself smoldered, its collapse briefly smothering the blaze that had killed it. He could stay surrounded by flames as he was, hoping for rescue but more likely dying of smoke inhalation and burns, or…
He sprinted forward and sprang off of the dirt, planting a foot on the tree’s side and leaping again with his gained momentum. He stretched for the sturdiest, highest branch that he could reach, and when his hand closed around it, he fought to cling to its searing heat. Gritting his teeth, he pulled all of his weight against his charring palms, reaching hand over hand for one branch after another. He found his footing at the apex of the trunk and made ready to dive into a slightly calmer portion of the river below.
A loud crack burst through the fire’s roar once again, and the tree split in half. The river facing portion tipped over into the water, dumping Raimie in alongside it.
The water hit him with a shock of ice, so cold it froze his body and brain in place. Before he could recover, a tree branch slapped his back, sending him spinning end over end. More branches and twigs buffeted him while he tried to correct and find the surface.
By luck, a bough dragged Raimie into the night, and he was able to take in a lungful of air and a glimpse of rapids full of tree debris before being yanked under. He pushed downward off of the trunk and swam against the current with as much effort as his exhausted body would allow. Surfacing, he grinned at the lack of wood in the water around him.
As if angry at his triumph, the river dipped, tossing him back into its clutches. It swatted him with a rock, and his ribs fractured where they glanced against the unmoving object. He inhaled to scream and instead choked down water. Panicked, he allowed his body to tumble, sucking more and more liquid into his lungs and stomach.
The Undying Champions (The Eternal War Book 1) Page 7