The Harpy's Song (Ëlamár Series Book 1)

by Logan Joss

  ‘Where’s Trevor?’ Mèlli quietly asked Ormostrious as they sat down.

  ‘He’ll be here,’ Ormostrious said with confidence.

  Mèlli sat and waited anxiously for his friend, and it was then that he noticed someone waving at him from one of the nearby tables. It was Freya. She was beaming at him proudly and pointing at his smart attire with approval. Mèlli looked down at his clothes and then back at Freya with a grimace. Burtlùs was sitting next to her and chuckling gently, but gave Mèlli a nod of respect.

  To the boy’s relief, Trevor finally appeared at the doorway, looking uncomfortable in a maroon velvet outfit in a similar style to his own. Mèlli giggled. Trevor was swiftly ushered to his chair by a footman, who pulled the seat back to allow him to sit. Mèlli beamed at him. ‘I’m glad I got the blue one,’ he said playfully.

  A chime sounded from a tubular bell held by a footman in the corner, and the room fell into silence. The king rose to address the gathering.

  ‘It has long since been runia’s tradition to honor those among us who would risk their lives to serve our country. Over the years, this great hall has honored many heroes, and now it is time to honor two more. As king, I would have failed in my duties if I could not offer a ceremony in the traditions of our forefathers, so despite the grave circumstances, we will spend this night in celebration. Trevor, Mèlli, please rise.’ Somúlùs gestured to the boys with an open hand. ‘People of runia, I give you your heroes.’

  He reached for his goblet and raised it high into the air. With this, everyone else in the room rose and held up their goblets. Trevor and Mèlli looked at each other uncertainly and Mèlli reached down to pick up his own goblet. Ormostrious tapped his hand out of the way and gave a quick shake of his head. Mèlli turned to Trevor and relayed the message with an elbow and a shake of the head.

  The room erupted with the battle cry, ‘Koo-wassa Ak-sora!’ and the guests downed their drinks and slammed the goblets onto the tables as one. Applause echoed through the palace as the doors swung open to a train of waiters carrying raised silver platters of steaming food. The celebrations continued into the night.

  Perseverance

  One day, the world will look back at my achievements, my dedication. They will celebrate me, worship me. But that is not why I have done it. My reasons are humble, selfless ones.

  For the greater good.

  I admit, when I started it was for myself that I strove to unravel these mysteries, but it was for reasons I cannot quite remember. Voices….names…

  It was when I discovered what awaited this world that I refocused my goals. I believe that my own salvation will come from saving it and its people.

  I have searched the four corners of Ëlamár, collecting anything that might help me find the answers. Before I came here. Whenever that was.

  It is said that you find what you are looking for once you stop looking for it.

  Pure superstition.

  Another way of saying you gave up. That someone else did the hard work and you just happened to be there at the right time to claim the reward.

  But not me. I never once gave up. Not once.

  I must admit though, my reward came to me in the most obscure of places. I thought I had visited every possible location on all five continents a dozen times but, apart from the odd artifact, nothing significant ever came from it.

  It was while traveling on a merchant galleon that I met an elderly man. We were both heading to the southern continent. It became obvious to me that we sought the same information, so I befriended him. He was a tall man. A tall, tall man.

  He was like me.

  We went to a site where the ancients of this world once resided. He had been directed there by some amateur relickers or someone like that.

  I found the scrolls, concealed in a metal box beneath a marker. I left without sharing my findings with him.

  His name eludes me.

  I came across this place. It is quiet here, so it suits me. I made it my home.

  NO. It is not my home. This is not my home.

  I have no home.

  This place is a sanctum of knowledge, and the knowledge I have come to possess will save this world and its people. That is what is important, not what has been done to achieve it, nor the sacrifices I have made.

  I kept true to my cause, without faltering, without ceasing, and now the world will reap the rewards.

  21

  The Oncoming Storm

  TREVOR WOKE WITH his heart thumping in his throat. The thick linen sheets clung to his body, sodden with perspiration. Far below him, the clatter of booted feet echoed through the palace as the guard changed watch.

  He sat up, peeling the sheet from his body like an unwanted skin and immediately felt the bite of the cool air. Shuddering with cold, with goose pimples bristling over his arms, he swung himself around and reached for the heavy robe on the chair beside the bed. He pulled it on and wrapped the thick velvet material tightly around him, looking for warmth. He crossed the room and sat on the stone sill of the large arched window, peering out through the leaded patchwork of colors that made up runia’s royal crest. Far off in the distance, he watched as the remnants of night on the horizon were transformed into day.

  At that moment, the thoughts that he had struggled so hard to expel from his mind came flooding in. The stark realization of what today meant brought waves of nausea and he wondered if he would falter. He paced the floor in an attempt to steady his nerves and banish the sickness, but it overcame him and he vomited violently into a washbowl. It felt like someone was tugging on his insides. Wrapping his arms around himself against the pain, he vomited again. He sat on the floor beneath the washbowl, hugging his knees and sobbing. For a moment he felt like his world was crashing down around him and the weight of what he had been asked to do was overwhelming.

  He took some time to calm himself and breathe deeply before standing to get dressed. He retrieved the linen pants and tunic that Freya had made from the back of the chair and noticed that they had been re-laundered while he slept. He slipped them on quickly. Then, sitting on the edge of the bed, he pulled on his trainers. Even these had been cleaned. The sight of them shining and new again made his heart flutter as they invoked images of his mother. A mournful smile spread across his face. The realization dawned on him that he no longer felt saddened by the separation from his family, but instead he was filled with purpose. For the first time, his position in this world was clear to him. Someone else’s life was now in his hands. The weight of responsibility lay heavily on his shoulders, but he was determined to do the right thing.

  Taking the velveteen bag that Ormostrious had given him from beneath the pillow, Trevor left his quarters and walked purposefully to Mèlli’s room. He knocked firmly on the door.

  ‘Mèlli! Mèlli! It’s me, Trevor.’ He waited for a reply but the room was silent. He tried the handle and found that it was unlocked so he entered quietly, not wanting to startle Mèlli. The sun shone brightly through the clear glass window, filling the room with the pale yellow glow of morning. The bed had been poorly made and Mèlli’s possessions were gone, but there was no sign of the boy.

  Disappointed, he closed the door behind him and descended the palace staircase alone. It seemed strangely quiet this morning. As he passed the doors to the Great Hall, he saw that it had been returned to a pristine condition after the revelry of the previous night. A lone maid swept the remains of the ashes from the grand fireplace. Even the main vestibule was empty; the door to the king’s parlor stood open and the room beyond was quiet and deserted. A feeling of unease started to creep through Trevor’s mind. In a mild state of panic, he hurried outside to the parade ground, worried that the galleon, and Mèlli, had left without him.

  Outside, Trevor was relieved to see the top of a single mast protruding above the high wall that surrounded the parade ground, and as he passed through an archway, he saw that the whole area was bustling with people. Ranks of soldiers marched to and fro while serv
ants pushed crates of supplies towards the vast galleon that hovered elegantly above the ground. Trevor approached it open-mouthed with amazement, absentmindedly dodging the crews milling beneath. He stood gazing up at the bow and reached out a hand to stroke its smooth surface. Ducking slightly, he walked beneath it, running a hand across its hull and feeling the slight movement as he pushed against it. Deliberately, he pushed a little harder and stared in wonderment as he realized he had moved this entire vessel with a single touch.

  ‘Oi, what are you doing?’ a voice called.

  Trevor jumped guiltily, before recognizing Mèlli’s voice. He turned around to see him sitting at a table with Ormostrious, King Somúlùs, Frèuitùs and several other people whom Trevor didn’t recognize. They all seemed to have stopped with their cups raised halfway to their mouths and were watching Trevor with looks of bewilderment and amusement. Trevor felt his cheeks burn. He froze to the spot with embarrassment, unsure what to do until he was rescued by King Somúlùs.

  ‘Come, come and join us, Trevor. Have some láven, you look like you need it.’

  Trevor shyly took a seat next to Mèlli and gratefully accepted the cup that was handed to him, sipping at the láven to hide his discomfort.

  ‘I thought I was late,’ he said, over the brim of his cup.

  ‘Not at all. It is in fact still very early, but it seems that no-one could sleep,’ Somúlùs reassured him.

  Mèlli kicked Trevor under the table. ‘Where’s your fancy costume?’ he asked, annoyed. It was then that Trevor noticed that Mèlli was wearing the outfit from last night’s banquet.

  ‘I’m not putting that back on. It was itchy and uncomfortable and it made me look like a giant plum.’

  ‘What?’ Mèlli screwed up his face in distaste. ‘ I thought we had to wear it.’

  Trevor just shrugged. ‘I wasn’t told.’

  A servant arrived at the table, carrying a platter filled with an assortment of delicious looking morsels. They all enjoyed a hearty breakfast while discussing the day’s schedule.

  Trevor and Mèlli returned to the parade ground later that morning to attend their pre-launch briefing. Trevor’s heart danced in his chest as they boarded the galleon for the first time and he felt the vast structure dip beneath them as it readjusted to the change in weight.

  The captain yelled instructions to his crew as he led Trevor and Mèlli into the navigator’s room and directed them to sit in two large, wooden chairs. The darkened room was brought to life as the captain lit firestone lanterns on either side of a table. He took his seat at one end and introduced himself. ‘I am captain D’ehlfiùs. Welcome aboard my galleon the Leviathan’s Roar.’

  Trevor did a double take as he noticed the captain’s face. It appeared that he had been badly injured. His eyes were sunk into his cheeks and the end of his nose and his top lip seemed to have been sliced off. Trevor looked away, trying not to stare.

  Mèlli noticed Trevor’s reaction and elbowed him sharply in the chest. ‘Don’t be so rude,’ he whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

  Trevor whispered back, ‘What’s happened to his face?’

  ‘What do mean what’s happened to his face? He’s a Sivèon.’

  The captain continued. ‘For those of you who find yourselves intimidated by my handsome features, I assure you I shall not apologize,’ he said with a playful grin.

  Trevor felt his cheeks burn as the captain looked at him and winked.

  He proceeded to inform his passengers of the rules and regulations of the vessel and told them that he expected them to abide by these rules at all times. Above all, he explained that certain areas of the galleon were out of bounds and no exceptions would be made.

  ‘Under normal circumstances, the crew would see this voyage as a simple sightseeing trip but, in the current climate, we need to take precautions and avoid unnecessary risks,’ he told them. ‘To this end, we shall be taking the longer route to the north, avoiding a potential confrontation with the front line of Nirikö’s attack. We will head west towards Xýrantè, before changing our heading and flying directly over the forests of Daknat’òr. My crew was opposed to taking this route as the forests are notoriously dangerous. All we can hope is that Zúbenelgenúbi sends the Zephyr to speed us on our way.’ He glanced towards a small statue of a Watcher carved into the bulkhead.

  Trevor and Mèlli were allowed to disembark to say their goodbyes. King Somúlùs gave each boy a firm handshake and wished them well, thanking them humbly for their selflessness. Burtlùs awkwardly offered his hand before changing his mind and patting the boys on the back. He dropped his gaze to the floor and stepped towards the rear of the group.

  Mèlli looked at Freya uncertainly.

  ‘Oh come here,’ Freya said, pulling him down towards her and giving him a good squeeze. Mèlli resisted at first but was overcome by the emotion of the moment and willingly returned the hug. Trevor promptly received the same treatment.

  Whilst still in Freya's embrace, he whispered, ‘Is Burtlùs alright?’

  Freya let go and allowed Trevor to stand. Her face wore an expression of sadness. ‘We could never have children of our own and, over the last few days, he has come to think of you two boys as the sons he never had. He’s just worried about you, that’s all.’

  Trevor looked over at Burtlùs and wondered how his mother would feel if she knew what he was about to do.

  Ormostrious ushered the two boys to one side. ‘Are you all prepared?’

  ‘As well as we can be I suppose,’ Mèlli said.

  ‘There is little more to say except I look forward to your safe return.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s if we return.’

  Trevor ignored Mèlli and turned to Ormostrious. ‘We’ll try our best, that’s all we can do.’

  ‘There is no need to try. You have already succeeded by accepting this task. But do not think about your journey as a whole. Remember it begins with you boarding this vessel and ends with your return to rus. What happens in between cannot be plotted on a chart or guided with a way-finder.’

  ‘But what if we come back without the dragon’s tear and the princess is lost forever?’ Trevor said.

  ‘Do you mean to return without it?’

  ‘No of course not.’

  ‘If your intention is to succeed then you have already completed half the task.’ Ormostrious lay a hand on Trevor’s head. ‘This tells you where you need to go.’ He moved his hand to the boy’s heart. ‘This tells you how to get there.’

  The bosun’s whistle signaled that it was time to depart and Trevor and Mèlli ascended the gangplank onto the vessel.

  ‘Do you have any idea what he was talking about?’ Trevor asked Mèlli as they boarded.

  ‘Does anyone ever?’ Mèlli said with a laugh.

  No sooner were they on board than the gangplank was drawn and stowed and the mooring lines were released, rocking the galleon gently from side to side before allowing it to ascend gracefully into the skies.

  The two boys rushed to the forecastle and leaned over the gunwale to watch as the city dwindled beneath them. The galleon rose directly upwards as if it were being pulled from above, giving them plenty of time to admire the view that was slowly revealed like an ever-expanding canvas. They watched as the people on the parade ground started to disperse, leaving just a small cluster gazing upwards at the departing galleon. But Trevor and Mèlli had long since stopped watching the people below, more interested in the sleek towers of the palace that slid past almost within reach. Soon, even the magnificence of the tall towers diminished as the sprawling bazaar came into view, with the Great Library just beyond. Even from this height, the library’s unique architecture set it apart from the rest of the city, dwarfing all the buildings huddled at its feet with its size and majesty.

  Then the harbordrome appeared—a vast crescent perched atop a towering cliff, and all else paled into insignificance. Trevor gasped with wonder as he saw it; he had been in awe when he visited yesterday, but from this hei
ght, its true magnitude was revealed. His head spun giddily as he recalled how Mèlli had jumped, without a care, onto the end of the harbordrome wall, for now he could see the true height of the precipitous drop beyond. Although the galleon was by now high in the sky, Trevor could see that the cliffs beneath the harbordrome were far higher still. He saw now how the whole of rus was perched loftily, high up on a cliff, overlooking a vast plateau stretching to the distant ocean. His knees felt weak as he saw how delicately the two arms of the harbordrome walls clung to the cliff, and as he realized that only hours before, he himself had been standing over that vast emptiness.

  Upon reaching its final height, the galleon stopped ascending and began to make way. Trevor watched for as long as he could until the beautiful city on its terrifying cliff became no more than a blur on the horizon.

  When there was nothing more to be seen, Trevor and Mèlli were shown to their cabin by a member of the crew, who directed them down a narrow passageway into the hold. The makeshift quarters, which had a hammock strung from either side, seemed to be a converted storeroom.

  ‘What? We have to share?’ Mèlli said.

  Trevor gave him a hurt look.

  ‘Two to a room?’ the crewman snarled. ‘You should count yourselves lucky. This ain’t no passenger vessel. Course, you could always bunk with the rest of the crew, if you ain’t happy with this.’

  He grimaced at Mèlli, who ignored him and entered the room with Trevor following silently behind.

  ‘Thought as much. I’ll leave you to it then,’ the crewman said and left the pair alone.

  ‘It could be fun you know,’ said Trevor. ‘I went on a summer camp once and shared a tiny room with three other boys. We had a great time…’ His words trailed off as he sensed Mèlli’s mood. ‘Or I could always go and sleep with the crew.’

  Mèlli grunted something and shrugged vaguely.