The ocean voyage from the great northern city of Tael had taken the better part of four months. Admittedly, this was much faster than the alternate land route would have been, but it was still ample time for Logan and his companions to become ship crazy. King Jarod had tasked the massive ships with returning the recently freed slaves to their homes and that meant stopping in every major and minor port city along the coast.
Needless to say, thought Logan with a snort, we are not making what anyone would consider good time.
A fleet of twenty-five long ships had left the port of Tael heading south, retracing the traditional route of the slavers. That was months ago, now the fleet was down to three ships, the others returning home once their passengers had disembarked. From what the captain had said over dinner last night, those final three would be anchoring in Solan Bay early this morning. Logan was certain that his companions and the rest of the passengers were as anxious as he to put an end to their journey across the rolling seas and finally get their feet back on solid ground.
His sister Tanel was especially excited at the prospect of returning home, a sentiment shared by many of the former residents of Solan Bay. Logan, however, had mixed feelings. Those who had been taken by the slavers remembered a village under attack. They remembered houses being put to the torch while friends and family were put to the sword. These were terrible nightmarish images to be sure, the kind that can haunt your dreams for the rest of your life. But he, he had walked the aftermath of the attack. Sure he remembered the deaths of his parents. Seeing his mother’s head roll across the ground was a horror he’d never forget, but he also knew he’d never forget the desolation and the carnage left behind by the slavers. He remembered the stink from the charred remains of homes and businesses, the stench of the recently dead and butchered beginning to decay, the image of scavenger birds picking through the remains of friends and neighbours. Involuntarily, Logan shuddered at the thought.
When Logan had left the ashes that were all that remained of the place he called home, it had been with a mission, a mission to free his sister from those who had taken her and to avenge the murders of his parents. That journey had been a long and difficult one, taking him across the entire continent of Tir’an. Along the way, he had made friends, met new and interesting peoples, faced many dangers and challenges and righted the wrongs he could. He had learned more about the world and the way it worked than he had ever thought he would and the more he thought about it, more than he had ever wanted to.
In the end, his mission had been a success. He’d succeeded in saving Tanel, freeing her from General Siris, the power behind the throne of Tael. In the process, he’d succeeded in freeing the people of Solan Bay, as well as people from hundreds of other towns and villages throughout Tir’an. He saved them from a life of slavery, and saved his sister from a fate he didn’t even want to think about. But, that was done, that was the past and all he had before him now were questions. What should he do now? What lay before him? What was the point to his life?
So many questions, he thought. And, not nearly enough answers.
You’re wallowing boy, spoke a deep male voice in his head.
Logan frowned at Hephaestus’ intrusion into his private thoughts.
Did I ask for opinions? he thought back at the deity. A deep rumbling laugh was Hephaestus’ only response and then Logan’s mind was quiet. Hephaestus was the god of blacksmiths. He was also, according to the diminutive god, Logan’s personal creator. Given the way Logan looked, it wasn’t hard for him to believe that he was pieced together in the blacksmith god’s workroom.
Hephaestus wasn’t exactly a beauty himself. Short and wide through the shoulders, the god of blacksmiths was heavily muscled as would be expected of any creature that spent its days wielding a hammer at the forge. But, he was also spectacularly ugly. Half his body was ruined. There was no other way that Logan could think to put it. One half of Hephaestus’ body and face was fine, pristine, as you’d expect from a god. The other half was deeply deformed and scarred. Much of his skin looked like it had suffered major burns while in places the skin was peeled back, exposing sinew and bone. The skin of his face was pulled tight around his mouth, exposing the god’s teeth and jaw. If Hephaestus was his creator, and Logan had long since lost reason to doubt that, then it perfectly explained why when Logan healed, which he did incredibly quickly, he continued to bear the scars.
Hephaestus insisted that he had created Logan with a plan in mind, though that plan was not always as clear as Logan would like. All Logan really knew for sure was that he was different from everyone else he had ever met. Not only did he look different, a mash of all the races he had met, but he had abilities that were normally specific to a particular race of people. Things like night vision, enhanced hearing and enhanced strength were all bundled with that disturbingly effective ability to heal.
Logan sighed to himself Hephaestus was right, he was wallowing and that wasn’t going to do him or anyone else any good. As far as the return to whatever was left of Solan Bay went, he had tried to warn Tanel not to get her hopes up too high. He had spent much of the journey from Tael trying to explain to his sister that nothing stood in the village they had once called home. He’d tried to put into words the extent of the damage that the slavers had caused - to explain the mass funeral pyre he’d built to the south of the village to provide the fallen with a proper send off. He’d explained that their own home had suffered a similar fate and that he’d built a similar, albeit smaller, pyre to free the souls of their parents. Unfortunately, Logan realized, it wasn’t something that could be conveyed through words alone, it needed the images to make it real. Despite all his warnings, she wanted to return. In her words it was more than just a want, she needed to return. Needed a sense of closure. Needed that finality.
Logan understood that, as much as he might want to, he couldn’t protect her from this. Ultimately, she would have to see it for herself, come to terms with the horror in her own way. And, as her brother, what else could he do but go with her. He might not be able to protect her from it, but he could at least offer her his support and help her through it.
He would be there for her when she finally saw the wreckage that had been their home. He would be there when she came face-to-face with his failure and he would accept the consequences of that failure. He’d been unable to save his family, unable to prevent their deaths. Worse than that, he hadn’t even been there when the slavers first attacked. He’d had a fight with his father and his mother had sent him into the forest to clear his head. He’d walked for hours and when he got back it was already too late to save his father. He’d watched in horror as the slavers hacked him to pieces. He hadn’t even been strong enough to save his mother or to stop the slavers from taking his sister. He’d had to watch that too. That failure would weigh on his soul for the rest of his days. In his mind, Logan had thought that bringing Tanel back, would somehow ease that pain and that guilt. He accepted now that it would never be.
No, he decided. I was too weak, too emotional back then. I let my emotions take me. Let them control me. That was why I was away when the slavers came. If I’d been there, Da and I would have stopped them. If I’d been there things would have been different. The slavers…
Would have separated your head from your shoulders, like they did your father’s! El’dreathia’s voice sounded in Logan’s head, her tone clear even in her mental communication. A slight frown crossed his lips.
Are you quite done? she continued.
He didn’t know if he would ever get used to that. He and El’dreathia were linked. Had been since before he’d entered the mines of Tael. It was some aspect of Elfin bonding from what he understood. Unfortunately in this instance, one of the aspects of their link was that El, much like Hephaestus, was able to read his thoughts, as she was currently doing, even from below decks.
Only when you’re not blocking them, she added.
The slight edge that had been present in El’s first thou
ghts had softened as she answered him.
Besides, she continued. It works both ways. You just need a bit more practise. But, you’re changing the subject.
Logan let a small smile creep into his thoughts.
Am I? He asked innocently.
Yes, she answered, a bit of the edge returning. You are! And, you know damn well that the only thing that would have been different if you had been there is that you would’ve been dead too.
Logan shook his head in frustration.
How can you say that? he asked. You know what I can do. You’ve seen what I can survive.
He was referring to several near miraculous instances in which he should have died or at least been horribly injured and had recovered with alarming speed.
You’re right, I do know some of what you can do, she answered. And, more importantly I know that what I’ve seen is only the tip of the iceberg. But, I also know that you’ve had to grow into those abilities. Just in the time I’ve known you, you’ve changed. You’ve developed and grown stronger. I honestly don’t know if the boy you were then could have survived the death your father suffered. Hades, I don’t even know if the man you are now could survive it.
Hear, hear, listen to the lass, intruded Hephaestus. I for one don’t want to have to keep putting you back together.
Logan felt a gentle hand on his shoulder as El joined him at the rail.
“It feels crazy to even think that it’s a possibility,” El continued aloud. “Death is death. It’s supposed to be final. You’re not supposed to get up from it. You’re definitely not supposed to keep getting up from it. That sword blow in Tael should have killed you. It… it did kill you.”
She was referring to his encounter with the general. He had managed, through surprise, to ram his sword through Logan’s chest. That blow had sent Logan’s spirit back to Hephaestus’ forge as close to death as Logan had ever come.
Logan turned toward the Elfin mage, tilting his head up to meet her gaze and wiping away the single tear that had begun its trek down her beautiful cheek.
“El,” he said softly. “It didn’t. I’m right here…”
She placed a finger against his lips. More tears chased the first down her delicate cheeks.
“No, Logan. You don’t understand,” she continued. “That sword did kill you! I felt it! I felt your essence leave through our link. It was undeniable. You were dead! Gone! Taken from me. Then suddenly, you weren’t. I know you’ve explained it. Explained Hephaestus and everything, but that doesn’t mean I really understand it. All I know is you were back and I never want to feel that again, never want to lose you again.”
He pulled her close to him, wrapping his overly long arms around her as she leaned into him. As always, she towered over him.
“I’m right here El,” he whispered soothingly. “All that is behind us now. I’m not going anywhere without you. I promise you.”
He felt her arms tighten around him as they held each other in silence.
“Land Ho!”
So lost in each other, the lookout’s call took Logan and El completely by surprise. Both turned to stare at the far horizon in the brightness of the new day. Logan’s keen vision found it first, a slight jagged shape rising to the North East of the ship. A sense of unease flowed through him.
Solan Bay, he thought. The start of so much.
He felt El’s arm across tighten across his shoulders and he slid his own around her waist, the tension that had flared with the sighting of Solan Bay, seeming to slip away. She made him stronger. A slight smile crossed his lips.
Yes, he thought as he glanced toward the Elf. The start of everything.
He had lost a lot that day in Solan Bay. He had experienced a pain he hoped and prayed to never endure again. His parents had been brutally killed, his sister had been taken, eventually to become the property of a raging psychotic, and he himself had been left for dead in a pool of his own blood. His life had fallen apart that day. Then, somehow, he’d managed to keep going. He’d traveled north in pursuit of those who’d committed those crimes.
Along the way he’d met the friends who travelled with him now, as close as any family he’d ever known. There was Lan’thor, son of the chief of the Elfin warrior clan, he’d started off as his rival for El’dreathia’s affection and Logan now counted him among his best friends. Really he was more a brother than anything else. They had found Raeth, a shape shifter and assassin, trapped by Goblins, which was incredible and a story he still hadn’t heard. Her skills in the lethal arts made even Logan, with his incredible ability to heal, nervous. There was the mountain troll Smash, who’d adopted Logan and his companions as tribe and had chosen to accompany them south rather than return to his own tribe. And then, of course, there was El. El’dreathia was the daughter of the Elfin chieftain and a mage to boot. El, the woman he would come to fall in love with, and even more unimaginable, the woman who in turn would come to love him, linking herself, mind and soul, to him.
Taking a moment, Logan studied the Elfin maiden. She was tall and beautiful, Logan was certain he would never look upon anyone or anything else as lovely. El glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.
“Well,” she commented with a smile. “Aren’t you in a sappy mood?”
Logan smiled and hugged the Elf a bit closer.
“Maybe.”
In the comfortable silence that followed, he let his mind wander. His thoughts filled with images of El and a warm flush passed through him. El’s arm tensed around his shoulders and he knew she was blushing.
Logan!
His smile grew broader as he tickled her hip lightly.
Yes? trying again for a tone of innocence.
“Don’t even try playing innocent with me,” she answered and Logan smirked back at El’s blushing face and the mock serious gaze she was giving him.
Logan could never completely explain it, but for some reason El always made him feel better. Something about the Elf drove him to distraction and dragged him out of his depressions. He found it impossible to maintain a dark mood with her around. For now he just wanted to enjoy having her close. Leaning his head lightly against her chest and pushing his thoughts away, he watched the approaching coast.
You Can Never Go Home Again
A dull scraping sound greeted Logan as the out-boat’s wooden hull ran up along the pebbled beach of Solan Bay before finally coming to a jarring halt. Logan hardly noticed. He and his five companions had been staring at the ruins that had once been the small fishing village, for the last several minutes. A stunned silence had seemed to embrace them all. Even Logan, who had thought he’d known what to expect, found the utter desolation disturbing. Reflecting upon it, Logan realized that his reaction made a certain sense. When he had left Solan Bay more than a year ago, he had been badly injured, suffering from extensive blood loss and something closely resembling a state of shock. Later, after he’d finally recovered from his wounds, his memories of the actual attack and the damage wreaked had been sketchy at best. It was as though his brain was protecting him, deciding that what he had seen was simply too appalling to be allowed to remain and separating him from those memories until he could cope with them.
Now was apparently the right time and as he looked at the desolation before him, those memories came crashing back. Superimposed over the desolation that was Solan Bay, Logan relived those memories. Ash filled the air. Bodies littered the ground, charnel stink that pervaded everything. As those memories faded back into his psyche, Logan looked at what actually remained. Now, more than a year after that fateful day, he realized how thorough the slavers had been in their destruction, for not one building remained.
Hades, he grimaced. Not even a single wall still stands.
Through tear filled eyes, he saw that everything had suffered. First, from the slaver’s fire, consuming all that it had touched. And later, with no one left to rebuild, from the harsh ocean winds and storms that had battered the skeletal remains of the town. Ash and soot had mi
xed with the sand and water leaving behind a grey, barren clearing. Even the surrounding forest had been hesitant to encroach onto the devastated land, seeming to give it a wide berth. A few lonely piles of rock and metal were the only real indications that men had once lived here.
Logan finally tore his attention away from the ruins and on to the returning residents, his gaze moving from out-boat to out-boat as he watched the faces of the survivors as they came face-to-face with their new reality. After all the trials and ordeals they had been through, Logan knew that this was a last agonizing blow. He saw the shock and disbelief in their eyes, saw the tears running down their faces. Logan understood what they were feeling, he felt it himself. When they had left, Solan Bay had been a town, a town beaten and burning, but a town nonetheless. Now, there was nothing. He could see the turmoil on their faces as they struggled to reconcile their memories with the devastation they now faced. He watched as they sought deep within themselves for the resolve to go on, to rebuild.
Slowly, almost tentatively, those returning to Solan Bay clambered from the out-boats and made their way up the beach. No one spoke. Their pace was little more than a shuffle as emotion threatened to overwhelm them. Logan wondered to himself if hope would ever recover. If the people before him would be able to rise to the challenge they now faced. Would these survivors find the strength to go on, to rebuild the families and the lives that had been so brutally taken away from them?
His companions shared the silence as they stepped off the boat and moved up the beach. Whether they held their tongues out of their own sense of shock at the level of destruction, or out of respect for the survivors, he couldn’t be sure. In many ways, it just felt wrong to speak, felt wrong to intrude on this moment with words.
Smash, sitting at the bow of the boat, was the first of the companions off the boat and onto the beach. Logan could almost feel the troll’s restless energy, the need to move after so long aboard ship, even as he maintained his solemn decorum for the sake of the returning villagers. The trip had been gruelling and the big man was happy to be on solid ground again. Watching him stretch out in obvious relief brought a smile to Logan’s face and he realized he was just as anxious to get on solid ground again himself as he promptly followed him ashore.
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