by Blaine Hart
In my crazy delirium I would pray for just a hint of the angel’s presence, just a few seconds of reprieve. Then I thought that I heard singing. The singing of more than a dozen voices, each one miles away. The singing became louder and they began to croon in a lovely sweet harmony. I thought they might be divine angels come to save me, and in that thinking I felt a wave of serenity wash over me, body and soul. I closed my eyes and saw the angel of glory once again.
I then opened my eyes and something hovered over my head like a bright halo. It was circling my head and transmitting a bright light all around me, and especially onto my injured arm. Then the bright halo exploded into a thousand pieces. When my vision cleared, it was as if a void had been left in the darkness. In that void I saw a vision of a polished marble tombstone with its back to me. As I gazed, it began to slowly turn. I half expected to see my name carved on it, but what I saw was puzzling.
There was a round silver medallion set into the white stone. It was the shape of a most curious looking tree. Branches and roots sprung from the trunk, but the branches and roots were like a mirror of each other. The upper branches flowed into a knot-like network of leaves that traced around the circle and down into the roots, forming another mesh of delicate weavings. On the top and on either side of the twining leaves were strange runes that had been carved. Something in me yearned to have the thing and I reached for it –
And then I began to feel as if something was welling inside of me. As if my soul was gathering in the strength of the universe, there was a stirring, and that sense of ease and calm told me that all would be well. In that peaceful moment I had a small longing to see my master and Wendfala just one more time. I so wanted to say—
“Goodbye,” I said. sitting bolt upright.
Then there was laughter.
“I think you mean ‘hello’,” Kell said.
“Master!”
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“I – I feel,” I began, but then I was puzzled.
My fever was gone. The fire in my arm was quenched. I was covered in sweat and grime, but I felt sound and whole as I looked up into my master’s smiling face.
“I feel great!”
Chapter 2: Selivanova
“Paladin, your blessing is strong,” Wendfala said. “You healed the boy when I could not.”
Indeed, I was healed. I sat up and looked about as if I had just woken from a pleasant nap. I was slightly confused and feeling groggy, but it was as though nothing had happened. Wendfala began un-wrapping the bandage from my arm, and when she had, she sat back and smiled. My wrist looked as if there had never been a wound. There wasn’t even a scar.
“It must be a mighty blessing,” she said. “The green-death had set in and I was afraid that I was going to have to remove the arm. And now – and now he is whole. It is a mighty blessing indeed.”
“A blessing is not the word,” Kell said. “My guides are not deities. It is the Strength of my Ancestors. The Paladins who have gone before me and who are now my guides have granted me much. But unlike a blessing, the Strengths come at a cost, and there will be a reckoning.”
“A reckoning?” she said. “Why would your Ancestors make you pay for something that will help the world?”
“Because they care little for our world. All that we see, the Nine Realms and beyond are but little in the Cosmos that they inhabit. But they did not make me pay; I was the one who made the offer.”
I saw that Wendfala was about to ask what he offered, but Kell held up his hand and stopped her. I stared a moment at that hand, and to me it looked as though it had hints of the weird and wonderful colors of the strange lightning I had seen in my delirium.
“But I see that you have not been idle,” he said. “The Chaos looks fit to sail, and so sail we must.”
“And so she shall sail,” Wendfala said. “Young Longo here is a bright and clever shipwright and teacher too. I have learned much as well and I will help as we sail. But only if that sailing is to lead us to stopping the she-devil in the well and breaking her spell of rain.”
“It is as you say and how it must be.” Kell said gravely, his eyes turning to steel.
“Then where do we go now master?” I asked.
“To the Island where the Tree of Life resides,” he said, “to Seek the Blessing from the Angel of Life.”
“B-but no one can go there,” Wendfala said. “No mortal has ever set foot on that sacred soil. It is said that the island is an earthly portal to Iteatu.”
“The Angelic Meadows.” I said.
“No mortal has set foot… yet.” Kell said. “That does not mean that no mortal can. We have to try. Only with a blessing of Life can we begin to think about challenging the demon witch Moanmalla.”
“Moanmalla?” I said. “Is that her name?”
Kell nodded. Wendfala turned ashen.
“How do we get there?” I asked. “How do we get to these sacred groves?”
“I don’t know,” Kell said.
We were suddenly a strange lot. We had a ship, we had a task, we had a crew, but we didn’t know where to go. We could sail, and with Wendfala’s magic, we knew that we could weather most any storm, but without a direction, we would simply blindly trust the winds.
Kell and Wendfala talked long. They spoke of legends and myths and stories that they had heard and of those I knew little of. I felt useless, and so I did what I always do when I am frustrated; I went below deck and I began to cook.
The Annas had stored away a goodly provision of dried meats and vegetables. I boiled a pot of rainwater and began a soupy-stew. The shriveled caulibroks looked like little trees. I sliced off the withered bases and tossed them into the pot with a bit of oil. They took to the water like thirsty rabbits and they swelled quickly. As I stirred in the meat, the water began to steam and the caulibroks floating on top bumped and bustled in odd ways. I watched inhaling the aroma.
Two florets swirled and knocked as if they were in a dance. It was both amusing and compelling, then a bit of a blob of oil surrounded them began swelling and making a perfect circle. The caulibroks rolled in that circle, bouncing off of their swelling flowers. Then they whirled until their bases touched, and in that touch they clung together. I stared. The vision from my delirium came back and I saw the tree on the tombstone as clear as if Gavial herself had shown it to me.
I left my cooking and dashed topside. I jumped from the ship and splashed to the shattered shore.
“Longo!” Wendfala cried. “Longo what are you doing?”
“Searching,” I called back. “Searching for a tombstone. It’s here. It’s here among the fallen.”
“What -- what are you talking about?”
“Just – just help me. Please.”
I splashed ashore and started groping in the dark, feeling the fallen tombstones and trying to find the white marble one. Kell and the witch anchored the ship and then Kell splashed into the ocean and swam to follow me. Wendfala stood behind, muttering and waving her hands.
“What are you looking for?” Kell asked when he had finally caught up. “And why are you so frantic?”
“I saw something,” I said as I searched. “In my fever, I saw your hand and then I saw a tombstone, and on that tombstone was—“
The area suddenly lit. Kell had Ashrune raised to the sky and it glowed with the light of the sun. But I had no eyes for the magic. I frantically searched for white marble. There were many cracked, broken or shattered tombstones. I soon found one that lay almost whole. I scurried to it. It had a blank back. I dug and pulled with all my strength, but it wouldn’t budge.
Then my master stood over while Wendfala floated to the ground next to me and pulled me away. Kell was smiling.
“Gavial,” he said so softly. “You are a wonder.”
He lowered the head of Ashrune and the light bathed the marble. Then he muttered strange words and the stone began to tremble. It rose, and as it did I could hear the rocks and debris around it shift and
tear. Then it pulled from the earth, levitated a moment, and then slowly rotated until the face was clear to see.
On that face I saw the medallion of my vision.
Then Kell laughed aloud and the slab fell with a crash and shattered, leaving the silver medallion sparking under my master’s holy light. I reached down and took up the silver medallion. It was warm and one of the runes on its side seemed to glow ever so faintly. My hand trembled.
“Gavial has blessed you Longo.” my master said. “From her bondage she reached into your fevered soul. Thank her.”
“But what is it?” I asked.
“It is our loadstone,” he said. “It is the compass that will point the way to the Sacred Island. You have been blessed.”
We swam back to the ship while Wendfala floated next to us. There was no wind so we had to row the ship across the grotto, and as Kell and I took to the oars, I found my strength was suddenly far stronger than it ever had been. My back, legs and arms felt as if I could row us all the way back to the Barnacle Atoll. I looked to my master and he smiled but said nothing. We said farewell to Gavial’s grotto and headed into the rolling sea.
A few hours later nature’s winds caught us full, the sails snapped and we were speeding on our way. The question was which way? Wendfala sang a small charm that sheltered me from the winds and I took out the Angel’s loadstone. I dangled it on some rope and we watched the talisman slowly turn back and forth until it settled a few points off the port bow. The rune glowed and there it stayed fixated. We looked to the sky, and while the rain was constant it was day and we saw the faintest image of the bright sun behind the clouds. Kell took the wheel and steered until the ship was on a line with the loadstone. We had something of a bearing and so we sailed.
The swells were fickle, one moment they would be long smooth rollers and the next they would crest like small hills that the boat would mount on a steep angle, only to have the prow go slapping down onto the waters on the other side. None of us were strangers to the sea, but the work was taxing. The helm was hard to manage, for the waves and wind were rolling one way, while we were headed another way all the while a deep and swift current from below was going a third direction. But even during my time at the wheel, wrestling to stay on our line, it felt as if my muscles had been charmed and I fought the thing with what felt like the strength of two men. I wondered if my master’s healing had given me more than health.
So on our voyage went. Our time was divided between the wheel, the rigging, and sleep. Two of us were always on deck. Twice a day we would check the loadstone and correct our course. The skies were a constant gloom and the rain sometimes came in waves and torrents. After three days we could tell that it was night, only because the darkness was deeper. We were drenched to the bone and miserable. The ships pitching and plowing made any sort of fire in the galley impossible and so we ate cold boards. There wasn’t even any good hot tea.
On our fourth day at sea the waters seemed to calm even though the rain held steady. Without sun or stars to plot our course, Kell could only guess where we were, and he guessed us to be in the Junes Straights, a long stretch of water between the continents of Fesul to the west and Dobrul to the east. Our drinking water was running low and we did not trust the demon rain, so we were on watch for land. As the waters quieted more and more, Wendfala stood over a small fire in the stove. We finally had time for some delicious tea.
The morning of the fifth day was my watch on the ratlines. Here the sun managed to brighten the clouds some, and though the rain made visibility poor, it was better than seeing dark mountainous swells. I was peering to the east, thinking that I had seen some shadowy form, when someone called my name.
“What?” I called back.
Kell looked up to me puzzled.
“What?” he said.
“Didn’t you call me?”
“No.” he said in a gruff voice.
I shrugged it off and returned to searching the horizon for what I could see. Then someone called me again, and the sound was as clear as day. Wendfala had just come on deck.
“Did you call me Wendfala?”
She looked at me and shook her head.
“Though it is your time to rest,” she said. “I’ll take the watch.”
“And rest you should,” Kell said. “You’re hearing things.”
Too much time spent on a single mind numbing task could do that. I began to climb down when I heard my name again.
“Longo.”
It sounded somewhat distant and yet so very sweet, and I knew that it could not have been either of my crew mates. I’d have sworn that it had come from the water. I looked about. The rain ws splashing on the sea and the sound was constant. Then I thought I saw a small splash, as if something had dove into the water. I scanned the area even as Wendfala called for me to come down. But I was entranced. I had to see what was there… and then I saw something red break the surface of the ocean.
There was gleaming green hair, and then a beautiful face looked up at me. She had the soft, round innocent eyes of a child and yet her face was mature like a woman. She seemed to propel herself almost all the way out of the water, and her streaming, gleaming hair flowed all down her comely body.
“Longo,” she said softly, reaching her arms to me.
Something in me stirred. Her eyes were so sad and it was as if just in looking at her my heart was breaking. In that moment I was overwhelmed with a desire to hold her and to comfort her. But even as I reached over the ship deck for her, she slid back away from me into the water, her silken green hair swirling behind.
“Longo come down!” Kell cried.
“Did you see –“
“I saw,” Kell said. “It is a Rusalka. Look away and come down now!”
But even as he spoke, I saw the waters swell and the beautiful child-woman rose up again, but this time even higher. Her streaming hair trailed a line of white water and she floated up so that she could look me in the eyes while revealing beautifully perfect breasts. She lovingly called my name and reached a delicate hand to me.
“Longo!” Kell shouted. “Don’t touch her!”
But I was driven by an overwhelming urge in my soul, and I stretched my hand toward her. Just as I was about to clasp her hand, I cried out in pain as a belaying pin knocked it away. I lost my balance and flailed in the rigging. I caught myself and turned in time to see her glowing green hair flow back below the waves. I clutched the lines and ignored hand the pain in my hand.
I was barely aware of Kell calling me. I prepared to jump into the ocean to save the beautiful damsel, but the next thing I knew Wendfala had pushed me further into the lines, her body tangled with mine. I heard the water part and strained to look at the ocean. I turned my head and there was the nymph again, stretching for me, her eyes looking so pained and my soul aching to comfort her.
“No!” Wendfala cried. “You cannot have him!” she screamed. Her hand then glowed brightly and she slapped me viciously across the face.
She then turned towards the woman and green fire flew from her fingers. The thing in the water screamed and instantly disappeared underneath the water. I was overcome with rage, and right there in the lines, I let go and cuffed her in the face. She grunted and her nose bled badly, maybe even broken. I was like a demon possessed. I grabbed her throat and began to throttle her. She punched me in the gut and kneed me between the legs. I groaned and crumbled. She caught me by the scruff of my collar and brought me to the deck before Kell.
More water nymphs were rising from the sea all about us, moaning and wailing and calling my name, pleading and imploring me.
“Longo,” one wept. “The witch has hurt Selivanova.”
“You must help her,” another wailed.
“She is dying.”
“Save her.”
“Save her Longo.”
The rage rekindled in my heart and I felt as if I were on fire. My green haired woman was not among the bobbing fairies and I was in a weird agony. I had to se
e her again. Ignoring my pains I scrambled to my feet but Wendfala was before me. I drew my dagger, yelled like a berserker and lunged at her , but even as I did she waved her arms and I slumped to the deck and rolled as one paralyzed. Then the witch turned to the creatures, but Kell stayed her.
“No,” he said. “We must not harm them.”
“But there are so many of them,” she cried. “They could overwhelm us.”
“No. They are Rusalka. They cannot leave the waters where they were murdered.”
“Murdered?”
“Horribly,” one of them moaned. “Violated and cast away to drown while still in the flower of youth.”
“We only seek some small peace.”
“Give us the boy. Please.”