Leaving the Sprawl, they overlooked the Beach of Majesties. Every speck of white sand glistened in the sun like a diamond, while the slapping cerulean of the ocean licked the shore. Everything was so clear and bright, but that is not what caught Ethan’s attention. Above the waves, hanging of its own accord, was a huge castle in midair. The golden white bricks were cut perfectly, layered on top of each other to make a solid wall without blemish. The walls cast a deep shadow over the water below. How does anyone get to it, Ethan wondered? His eyes followed a walkway in the sand that fed into another tunnel. A clear tube of translucent glass showed glimpses of exotic plants. He remembered to close his mouth as he stared at the glorious structure in awe. There was nothing like this on Earth.
Caitilin excitedly whispered over his shoulder, “This was a gift from Gibbs. It’s his energy that keeps the castle floating. He also cleansed it from curses and put a blessing on it so evil will not attack it. It is the holiest place in Faeria. Gibbs had a very good relationship with her majesty before he secluded himself in the mountains. She welcomes anyone with Gibbs’ blessing as a friend.”
“Why did he seclude himself in the mountains?”
She gazed over the shore of restless waves. “He doesn’t quite see eye-to-eye with the Queen’s use of military. He says we use the military to keep Phaenix in, when we should be using the military to help others out.”
Hinson was reminded of Erok’s warning. Faeria had never lifted a finger to help another tribe. Gibbs had long been on the same page. He wasn’t sure, but perhaps Ethan was being used to unite Phaenix and Earthians. That would be an important first step in Faeria reaching out to other nations.
Ethan turned toward her with his good eye, looking at the glorious castle again. “Have you ever been in there?”
Caitilin shook her head. “Gibbs never liked the political side of Faeria. He always told us that the glory of Faeria belongs to the holiness and righteousness of our kotoma and not some leafy lawmakers in rich houses.” She did her best to imitate her teacher.
Hinson was farther down the beach. He beckoned to Caitilin.
They weren’t going to the castle yet, but Hinson assured him that they would. The imminent danger of smuggling an Earthian would have to take secondary priority for the moment. They needed to visit the Faeria Library of Parchments.
On the way, Ethan observed the aquatic life around the water. Crustacean creatures with coral crowns on their backs walked sideways scrounging for food, while more meagles circled the area looking for fish to scoop up. The beach also housed another structure, where the sand transitioned into shiny sheet rock, on which stood the most ancient of buildings. With shutters resembling a network of small curvy red horns and walls of brown rock, the library did not look like the government-funded facilities Ethan was accustomed to.
“Caitilin, you are well versed in ancient Phaenix prophecy,” Hinson asked, still looking straight ahead.
“Could you come with me and help decipher the codes?”
She joyfully skipped into the building unable to contain her fluttering wings.
The lobby foyer was lit by small auras, the small glowing orbs lining the walls. There wasn’t much to see except a few tables and rows of scroll racks that bounced back the light, illuminating the unfamiliar temple. Once again Ethan was asked to wait outside with Mollet, but this time Caitilin wasn’t with them.
A cold, ominous silence surfaced as Ethan leaned against the building, trying not to make eye contact with Mollet. He could feel the war beast staring a hate-filled hole in him. A simple glance showed him what Mollet was contemplating, probably thinking of ways to hurt the poor Earthian.
Mollet pulled out a sourwine apple and started to chew to it loudly, but his gaze never left the boy.
“Only one thing is keeping me from ripping you apart.”
Ethan’s blood ran cold. He looked around nervously. There was no other Phaenix in sight. Nothing but open space. The thinning self-control of the war beast was his only line of defense. He started to tremble.
“When Her Majesty finds you, she will torture you until she is satisfied.” Mollet closed his eyes in bliss at the thought. “And we will raise a glorious army, rising above the worthless cretins who wish us harm.” Mollet peered at Ethan with a demonic sneer.
“But first we will need an example—you!”
All Ethan could do was close his eyes to try to ignore Mollet’s painful words. What if he was right? Could he trust Gibbs? Everyone would want him dead if they knew the truth. What was that truth? His parents had ceased to exist, his friends had abandoned him, and some troll race had caused it all.
Mollet spit on the boy’s robe. “You are the reason why Faeria doubts its strength and you are the reason that we will not fight.”
Huh? Maybe Ethan had unwittingly caused some problems because of his curse, but it wasn’t like the entire kingdom’s history and political struggles were his fault. Hot anger surged through his brain in a fiery blast. He could feel the rage boil up inside of him.
“You hate me, Mollet! You hate me and I haven’t done anything to you! My only crime is being a different, wingless version of yourself. And you think you can hate me just to feel better about this invasion, as if I’m the root of all your problems!”
He felt the words blast out of him and they felt so good.
“I didn’t cause your invasion! I didn’t ask to be here! I didn’t want to be cursed and I definitely didn’t want to stand outside a library with a tall and dark stack of rocks who hates me! But my parents died and I have nowhere else to go. Do you even understand a loss like that?”
“My brother died!” Mollet spewed out. “He died protecting the East from you.”
Ethan didn’t back down; it gave him energy.
“Go ahead and kill me then! My death will certainly bring back your brother and will let me be with my parents!”
“Your parents deserved to die, as do all Earthians.”
Mollet’s strength knocked Ethan to his back, continuing his verbal tirade. Ethan scrambled helplessly on the crystalline sand.
A nauseating hurricane flooded through Ethan. He was free of the curse, but that dark remark made his hand itch slightly. Warrior or no warrior, he lunged at Mollet. Ethan tried to jump up and pound his fists on the Phaenix’s chest, but he was shortly denied when Mollet brought him to the ground with his hand and held him by the head.
“Face it boy, your life is not worth this battle.”
Ethan broke free and charged into Mollet, wrapping his arms around the man’s thick waist. He could not move the mountain he was pressing against and soon felt Mollet’s forearms against his head. He was down on the sand again.
Mollet took a few steps backwards. “You won’t last, you are a lower than any mez.”
Ethan’s fists tensed up and he ran blindly at the warrior. It wasn’t about skill or going for a vital attack to cripple his enemy. He just wanted revenge. Mollet avoided a hit again by taking Ethan’s head with both hands back to the ground. Now Mollet was on top of Ethan like a dark shadow. He put his hands around the boy’s neck and applied pressure.
“I want you to know what death feels like when you are at war. They face death all day long and are not afraid.”
The vice around Ethan’s neck tightened any air in Ethan’s bandaged body. He saw fire....
“Are you afraid, Ethan?”
Ethan wiggled violently and wrenched his fingers around Mollet’s vice grip. He looked into the warrior’s eyes again, but this time he didn’t see Mollet; instead a Kalhari troll with overbite fangs glaring back with a thirst for blood, and it wanted to kill Ethan, and destroy anything Ethan had left.
“Are you afraid?” the Kalhari screamed.
He wasn’t afraid. He could see an opening. The troll had left his head exposed. Ethan lifted his hands off the thick fingers and instead tightened his hands into fists. His fist drove into the Kalhari’s snout, leveling him backwards. And in that same moment all th
e adrenaline, fear, and fire stored up inside the boy was released, along with the Kalhari.
Mollet grabbed his nose, his eyes stung with warm water. He was cursing relentlessly. Ethan was on his feet again, massaging his neck muscles. A smile stole across his face as he saw the damage he had done. The nose wasn’t broken by any means and Mollet had done twice as much harm, but regardless, Ethan had proved his fist was a weapon.
Mollet got to his feet and adjusted his swollen nose as best he could. “The Kalhari, they are monsters of destruction, facing death and fear every day. They have mastered it and they know the Phaenix haven’t. It’s important that you know that if you enter this battle afraid and angry, you will be destroyed. Remember, you are not fighting to avenge your parental leaders,” his voice softened.
“That motivation is riddled with mistakes and inconsistent behavior. You are fighting for good, my homeland; the place where multitudes of Phaenix reside.”
Those words anchored into Ethan’s chest. Mollet had been teaching him how to fight all along, and he had been too blinded by fear and anger to notice.
“All of this was to teach me,” Ethan said, ashamed a little of his victory.
Mollet realized the boy had found his soft spot and quickly averted his gaze. “Don’t be such a kunwar. I just wanted to beat on you. You won’t get approval from the Queen.”
*****
Caitilin sighed when she put another parchment back into the rack. There had to be thousands of prophecies, poems, and political writings. Her eyes scanned the endless rows; what were they looking for?
Hinson was at the other end, searching through war prophecies. He had been reading and interpreting as much as he could. All he found were prophecies speaking of Faeria’s dominance over other nations. Not one would foresee an invasion. After an entire row of prophecies intoning doom to the Elfin people, he decided there must not be a single prophecy relevant to this time. Even the Kalhari-centered prophecies were riddled with arrogance and optimism unable to come close to the dire situation Faeria was facing right now. Apparently, every prophet thought the Phaenix would always defeat the Kalhari.
Hinson sighed and remembered Erok’s words. We definitely have been arrogant.
He wiped the sweat off his brow and looked over at Caitilin. She was working diligently, trying to decipher the scrolls. He couldn’t help but stare at her.
“Hinson!” Caitilin yelled.
Hinson snapped out of his trance and looked the other way, pretending to be interested in searching for more parchments.
“Draw your eyes,” she explained, sidling up next to him. “I found something of importance.”
She brought a wooden war scroll to his attention for him to read. His eyes scanned it. It was just a scroll about a war the Phaenix fought against the Kalhari. It wasn’t anything special, but it did brag about how easy it was to defeat them.
“At the bottom.”
He read the last stanza of the prophecy. It had a list of all the things stolen from the enemy camp. His eyes lit up when he came across some Kalhari prophecies.
“What if the prophecy we’re looking for is stated in the troll texts? It’s not strange for the Daysun to illuminate others to get His word across.”
“You think that the Daysun spoke through the troll people?”
“It would be a way to get our attention.”
While it was not unusual for the Daysun to use outside races to help the Phaenix, it was rare that they acknowledged or accepted the assistance. Hinson looked at the whole row of war prophecies. Not a single one was honest enough to speak of this situation.
“Haste now,” he said.
They navigated lower into a dusty and wet room. It was covered in a mildew film. It was where Phaenix stored spoils of enemy armies, since they didn’t value the materials enough to use proper storage.
Caitilin illuminated her palm and descended down the stairs. She had butterflies in her stomach and was sure the head deacon could hear them. She was enthralled being next to him, barely noticing that time had passed.
“Is there no organization to these scrolls?”
“Oh, yes! Check the Kalhari scroll section; I think there are at least three of them.”
Caitilin made her way to the back where there were three wooden scrolls. Three wooden slots each had a rolled up parchment in them. She trailed her light farther; there was a fourth slot also filled with the ancient paper. She moved the light to read the title.
“Scroll of Davik.”
“Did you find it?”
“We can start with this one.”
Hinson knocked over some books looking for a table. Lighting a few musty candles, they had enough light to read. Hinson read over the poem quietly, his eyes feeding hungrily on each word. The words sang out to him in a chorus. Each line spoke to him about Ethan, about the war, and about the future of Faeria. This is what he needed. He raised the parchment over the table.
“This is what we need! It’s all written here.”
Caitilin took the scroll. She found the same answers and a smile splashed across her face.
“This will marshal the Queen’s favor for sure. I’m sure she will not doubt a prophecy. I can’t believe a Kalhari wrote this.”
Hinson could not keep the smile off his face. “We can’t tell her it is a Kalhari prophecy,” he whispered. “She might mistrust it. But at the same time, I can’t believe they would write this about us. Did they know?”
“It doesn’t matter; let’s look for more evidence,” Caitilin said, rolling up the parchment on the table.
They went back to the Kalhari prophecy section and found that the other scrolls discussed land ownership and how to destroy a Phaenix.
With a relieved breath, Caitilin returned to the table with the precious scroll. She thought she had gone to the wrong table and her eyes searched the other tables in the basement. Only one table had a lit candle on it, but it didn’t have the scroll.
“Hinson,” she said nervously, “Do you have the scroll, perchance?”
“No, we left it on the ta—” He stopped dead in his sentence when he realized it was missing. “Where did it go, Caitilin?”
“I left it right here,” she panicked.
They began to search the dark ground frantically. All they found were old moist splotches, but no Davik scroll. They lit the whole room with candles to see if there was any place it rolled or had been accidentally set down. Caitilin checked and rechecked every Kalhari prophecy rack. There was nothing; they had lost the scroll that ensured their victory. That was the only scroll from which Ethan would have been cleared to fight in battle, but it was gone.
“This can’t be happening!” Caitilin wailed.
Hinson was incessantly praying that the Daysun would reveal it.
They could check the basement until time stood still, but they still wouldn’t find it. The scroll was not there.
*****
Mollet strolled back from a much needed break. He explained in great offensive detail that the Earthian was driving him mad with his stink and excused himself. When he came back, he was holding a roasted baby hog on a stick. He smirked at the delicious delicacy. He quickly went back to brooding when he saw the boy—scrawny, bandaged and drenched in hopelessness. Ethan would never pass as a Phaenix in those bandages. The Queen was way too cunning to fall for something so obvious. The idea probably fell out of Ethan’s brain into Hinson’s. He almost smiled again at the thought of matter falling out of Ethan’s head. Then his smile soon changed when he saw her.
Mara was standing off in the distance, facing away from him. She seemed to be looking through a sack of items she bought from the markets. Mollet had not seen his betrothal in days—what was she doing here? He would find out.
“Mara!” Mollet approached her, “My Mara, what are you doing here?”
He softened his voice as he spoke. She came closer. His aggressive side always turned her away and he had to remember that. He was completely different around
Mara.
From the first encounter he had loved her. She was a deaconess of the East and he was a brutal warrior. He was not one for poetry or wooing a woman like the other soldiers, but he demonstrated his prowess by slaying an Octaflaught and offering its heart to her as a gift. Like every Phaenix maiden, she was put off by his savagery, but offering one hundred Elfin hearts to her Readying House as a dowry for her was endearing. She gave into his meat and potato ways and now he was waiting for her to finish her Readying House training to complete their marriage ceremony.
She turned her head to him and looked startled. Her eyes showed uncertainty and her lips trembled.
“Mara,” Mollet said, now next to her. “I have not seen you since the last unfortunate encounter with Ethan. Why have you disappeared?”
Ethan saw the huge grizzly of a man turn into a soft panda bear. The panda bear could still rip his heart out, but it was astonishing to watch him act so docile. Just like in his world, the gentlemen would do anything for a lady.
She curled her lips and pointed directly at Ethan. Her veins hardened as she spoke.
“Away from me! Get away from me! You are with the worthless one!” she declared.
Mollet’s heart fell beneath the ground. She was absolutely correct and he couldn’t tell her. Her alarm rattled him. “I’m on a deaconess mission,” he blubbered. “You should be proud. I am helping.”
Now Ethan could feel Mara’s tension.
Her skin turned purple. “Get away, Mollet! I never want to see you! You are nothing to me.”
Mara was not affectionate like other maidens, but she wasn’t cruel. But now she acting as cold as Mollet’s blade. The rank scent was from the Earthian. Her words could have sparked a brawl with any other Phaenix, but this was his betrothal. She was worth patience. Even a hardened monster would give that to her. She was beautiful, from the flash of her red hair to her petite frame. She was flying away, without any warning or notice. She flew into the vast sky. It killed Mollet not to follow her. He watched from the ground, unable to shake her wrath.
The Boy and His Curse Page 19