Valyn, if you are there, you need to help us.
“Yes, I am here, Marzi. But this is war. What you see here is only the beginning. Even if I wished it so, I am not capable of making conflict painless. There will be more death, more injuries before this is over. I am with you. I will always be with you. But you must do your part. And that includes acceptance of these losses. As for the elf before you, I suspect that she will survive, although she will never be the same. Corhymin is strong and she will accept it. And she will grow and thrive from it. That is what it means to be an elf. So, this is your charge, my child. You must do everything you can to help bring this conflict to an end as soon as possible. This is the only way to lessen the pain of death and injury.” The goddess left her with a distinct scent of jasmine, lemon, and lilac.
Marzi wanted to argue, but she knew better. The part that wanted to lash out was that part of her that was still a child. The part that had grown up over these past months understood the truth of what Valyn had said. War brought death and pain. Even the most righteous of wars could not be fought without loss.
Tears flooded her eyes as she stared at the barely conscious Corhymin—her broken body obviously wracked with pain. And a determination swept over the young Azyrean—she would do anything, everything to bring this to an end. But she knew, in her heart, that the only way this would happen would be through the destruction or removal of Dredwyn. And, at that moment, she remembered what Tovi had told her. That job would fall to him.
Chapter 13: Crystal Sands
The logs on the fire crackled, and the flames danced in the night. The hastily called meeting had not managed to generate anything other than despair. Marzi and Tovi sat off to one side. The elven contingent, led by the triumvirate—Ariessa, Saige, and Elondiel—sat on large stones staring into the pile of burning logs without speaking. Klunk and Kharla exchanged a few words that Marzi couldn’t hear, then they fell silent. The human captain leaned back on his elbows, his face betraying no emotion.
Marzi had never seen the elves so despondent. She had witnessed them through sorrow, trials, and danger. But the attack that befell their swordsmen, injured others, and nearly destroyed Corhymin seemed to have brought them to the brink of collapse. They had said little and held their grief close.
Finally, Empress Ariessa broke the silence. “We must move past this. There will be time for grieving later. We will treat and heal the injured, and we will honor the fallen. But, for now, we must regroup.” She surveyed those sitting around the fire. “Our first order of business must be to appoint a new leader for our combined forces.”
Before she could continue, Saige stepped forward. “I agree that this tragedy has befallen us at the worst possible time. But we do need to continue on. To that end, I offer my services as commander of the combined forces, at least until such time as Corhymin can resume her duties.” She stood face-to-face with Ariessa, betraying no emotion.
The empress cleared her throat. “That is a kind and considerate offer, Saige, and I thank you. But we need a seasoned military leader. For this reason, I propose that we would be best served by the young human captain, Thomas Virgil. He has experience with Wyndred’s forces and he has tasted battle.”
Saige bristled visibly, nodding, and stepped back, her face darkened.
Virgil pushed himself up into a sitting position. “I am honored. But I feel it best to decline.”
“And why is that, Captain?”
“Two reasons, really. First, I am a battle tactician. You are correct in that I have fought the king’s men. But my skills lie on the field of conflict. The position of which you speak is that of a strategist—directing resources, assigning broad responsibilities for others to execute. The second reason is actually quite simple. You have a superb leader already. Corhymin is injured, yes. But she is not dead and she will improve. She has your confidence, and she has my confidence. I don’t speak for the ogres. For that I defer to Master Klunk.” He nodded at the two ogres sitting off to themselves.
Klunk stood and cleared his throat. “I have no knowledge of these things. Kharla,” he gestured to the young woman beside him, “will lead our people in battle and she can give you her thoughts. But the words from my heart are that your elven leader who lies injured will recover and she should lead. She stood face-to-face with that thing today. And she did not flinch.”
Kharla stood and eased closer to Klunk. “I agree with my friend. I will gladly lead the ogres to fight, but I do not believe I can do what your elf leader can. I will take my orders from her. I believe in her.”
A tear made its way down Elondiel’s cheek. He nodded in recognition of and agreement with the comments.
Ariessa considered the group for a moment before responding. “Very well. I am heartened at the confidence that you show. I also have faith in her and I have faith in the combined care of the ogres, elves, and humans to nurse her back to health.”
Marzi felt a sudden swell of pride. She saw the nobility in these beings and it stirred her heart to be part of it.
Tovi stood and sidled over to Klunk and Kharla, just out of earshot, and spoke to the two. Klunk shrugged and offered a weak smile.
◆◆◆
The next morning, Marzi made her way to the medical tent where Corhymin and the other injured elves were being cared for. As she entered, she saw that Elondiel, Ariessa, and Captain Virgil were already there. They sat beside the frail figure lying beneath the cloth. Despite the horrible damage she had suffered, the strategist was awake and speaking. The Azyrean moved closer. The others, seeing her, made a space near the bed. One of them gave up a chair and gestured for Marzi to sit.
Corhymin murmured something that sounded like “Hello, Marzi.” A deep gash on the side of her face had not yet started to heal. Arien was coating it with a poultice from a small cup held by an ogre. The leader’s eyes were both blackened.
Marzi struggled for words. Seeing the elf in this condition sickened her heart. “Hi.” She paused for a moment, and then spoke from the heart. “I’m sorry about what happened yesterday. But what you did, well, it inspired us. I hope that, if the time comes, I can be that brave.”
Corhymin forced a weak smile and nodded.
Captain Virgil cleared his throat. “My lady. I know that speaking is difficult right now. So, if you will permit me, I would like to offer suggestions for how we can get started. If you prefer something different, just say the word.”
The elven leader nodded.
“I propose that I take a small force of our rebels to reconnoiter the area near the entry portal for their army. I will, of course, need to take someone from the ogre forces to guide me. The elven army has superior numbers and ranged firepower with your archers and magic casters. They would likely be best deployed on the hills to the west and east. Any force moving into this area would come within their field of fire. The ogres can amass in force here to intercept any who come through. In the meantime, it might be worthwhile to try and equip them with swords and battle maces rather than the clubs they now carry.”
Corhymin closed her eyes for a moment. She nodded as she opened them but remained silent.
“Very good, Commander. By your leave, I will prepare my troops and inquire among the ogres of one who might accompany me.”
Chapter 14: Ebon Hills
“Which way?” Jarek stood, pack at his feet, waiting for Burns to take charge.
She nodded to the left. “North.”
At least she answered the question, although the Azyrean would have liked a more detailed or at least enthusiastic answer. But his friend’s face showed no trace of emotion or concern. Her eyes were vacant and her arms hung loosely at her side. Her pack also lay on the ground in front of her.
Ratio took a few steps toward the north and then stopped, peering ahead into the empty landscape. “The northerly breeze tells me that we’ll have fair weather for a few days at least. As we get closer to the ruins though, it will get much colder.” He turned toward the other two.
“We should get moving.”
Jarek shouldered his pack, which was substantially heavier than it had been the previous day. The extra food added more weight than he’d anticipated. He trudged over to stand beside Ratio while the two of them waited for their companion.
Burns stared north for a few moments before bending down to retrieve her own load. When she straightened up and adjusted the straps, she stood still, as though waiting for some direction or invitation.
The Azyrean was about to ask her to lead on, when Ratio turned and began the trek into the north. Jarek shook his head and fell in behind the brother, confident—or rather hoping—that Burns would follow along.
The journey began in relative silence, with the only sound being the rustling of the tall grass as they made their way through it. The vegetation grew nearly to the humans’ waists. But for Jarek, it reached his chest. He didn’t mind though. From what he could see of their environs, it was the very essence of tranquility. The deep azure sky was unobstructed by clouds. Bees and butterflies buzzed around colorful flowers. A pale golden tall grass of some type lightly and rhythmically danced in the breeze. It felt good, it smelled good, and the wind out of the north freshened his face. Perhaps most important, if they found themselves in danger, the tall grass would allow them to drop and hide. The land ahead of them continued to stretch out in rolling hills, presumably covered by the same deep grass through which they now trudged, and fortunately, as of yet, there had been no signs of danger.
The silence of the morning continued. All attempts at conversation or any kind of engagement with Burns proved fruitless. It was as though she were there in body only. She trekked with the group, stopped when they stopped, ate when they ate, but nothing more. She showed no signs of fatigue other than a sense of weariness of life in general.
By late afternoon, the wind had increased and begun to bite at Jarek’s nose and ears. His body remained warm, although he suspected it was from the exertion. It occurred to him that they would need to find shelter from the wind when they stopped for the night. None of them was equipped for a night open to the cold wind.
With the sun touching the horizon in the west, Jarek spied a copse of trees as they topped a ridge and started down into a shallow valley. “Maybe we should make camp there. We’ll have wood for a fire and the trees will at least keep the wind at bay.”
Ratio stopped and turned. “I agree on the shelter but I’m not so sure about the fire. The more we remain out of sight, the safer we’ll be.”
There was truth in his words. The Azyrean reflected on the fact that they had no need to cook food. And once they settled in for the night, they could sleep behind the protection of trees and bushes, covered with the light blankets they carried. “Yeah. Probably right.” Still, a fire would have been nice, if for no other reason than to provide some sense of well-being.
◆◆◆
If the silence of the day’s trek had been disturbing, Burns’ deepening mood during their meal and afterwards was oppressive. A pall hung over the trio as they nibbled unenthusiastically on meat and vegetables. In the absence of fire, the darkness made it worse and the whistling of the wind through the tall evergreens unnerved Jarek.
After dinner, the three staked out positions beneath the low hanging branches of the trees. Jarek laid his pack up against a trunk and rested his head on it, pulling his blanket over his body to shield against the chill. He felt mildly amused that he had grown so accustomed to sleeping on hard surfaces that he hardly even noticed. Life had changed since he left Pangrove.
He lost track of the time, staring up at the sky through small openings in the canopy. With no moon visible, the stars twinkled fiercely, some brilliant blue with others being a warmer red or orange—so many stars.
Soon the sound of snoring joined the whistling of the wind. Jarek’s eyelids grew heavy and he turned onto his right side to get comfortable.
“So?” The voice had returned.
So what?
“Don’t play stupid. It does not become you. Your friend is sinking deeper. What do you intend to do about it?”
Who or what are you?
“Do you always answer a question with a question?” The tone was a strange mix of amusement and sarcasm.
Look, if I’m going to carry on a conversation with you and do what you ask of me, I at least want to know who you are. That doesn’t seem too much to ask.
A moment of silence initially greeted his thought. “Perhaps. But do not labor under the misconception that you are calling the shots here, little one.”
Oh, I don’t. From where I stand, it doesn’t appear as though anyone is calling the shots.
The laugh came across as genuine. “Well said. But as fascinating as I find this bit of exchange between us, we have some problems to solve. So, in the interest of collaboration, we shall explore the notion of what or who I am. First, let me ask you, what is it that you seek to the north?”
I had assumed that you knew—we are looking for the brothers. We figure that they may be hidden in the ruins, possibly underground.
“And why would you expect them to be there?”
Because that’s where we believe the old priesthood lived and it would be safe from the king’s men.
“Ah, yes, the priesthood. You know about them?”
I know that they were priests of the human god Aristan. And I know that there are no more priests, but the brotherhood carries on the task of preserving the word.
“Aristan—now there’s a familiar name.”
You know of him?
Another laugh. “You might say that.”
It occurred to Jarek that he was talking to a disembodied voice in his head. The implication hit him hard. Wait. You’re not…? Really?
“Very clever, Master Whit.”
You don’t talk like a god, though. You sound more like my old boss. He almost added that he didn’t think much of his nemesis back in Pangrove.
“Be that as it may, we now have that piece of business out of the way. We can move on to more important things, like how you’re going to deal with your friend’s state of mind.”
Jarek’s heart fell. He was suddenly brought back to the reality that Burns had become little more than a walking body. Ratio was doing an adequate job of leading them toward the north, but they really needed Burns. I know. And I want to help her. But I don’t know how.
“It won’t be easy, my friend.”
This was the first time that the voice, this god, had called him friend. He felt a sudden closeness, a sense of belonging that he’d not experienced before.
Aristan continued, “She lost her entire family to the king. Most of her friends went through the portal to Crystal Sands. The rebel camp was invaded and seven of her companions had died. Now, what’s left of her new family and friends are missing. She feels responsible for you and, at the same time, helpless to keep evil at bay.”
I know all that. But that still doesn’t tell me how to fix this.
“You can’t fix it. Only she can.”
The statement confused Jarek. Then why are you telling me I have to help her?
“When the time comes, and it will come very soon, she will have the opportunity she needs to pull herself out. But she may not see or recognize it. Her only hope is that you will understand and perhaps give her a gentle nudge in the right direction. But Jarek, I offer this caution. You cannot solve her problems for her, nor can you force her against her will. The power of your friendship is the key.”
That doesn’t make any sense to me.
“It will.”
Chapter 15: Ebon Hills
Jarek slept dreamlessly for the remainder of the night. The wind through the trees created a constant rush that lulled him back to sleep. On the two occasions he awoke during the dark, he pulled his thin blanket even tighter against the sounds of the night.
Morning brought a gray dawn. A low-lying fog obscured the trees beyond a ten-meter radius. The three travelers packed their gear and sat, ea
ch backed up against a tree, munching on cold meat and vegetables. “How much farther, do you figure?” Jarek asked his two companions.
Burns responded consistent with her demeanor of the previous day. She appeared to have not heard the question. Ratio shrugged. “I’ve not been to the ruins. You have.”
The Azyrean glanced around the small circle of visibility. “But we didn’t come this way. I think we were farther to the east. I remember a lot of tall grass and moving into a forest before reaching the ruins. I can’t tell, from what I see, whether we are truly in a forest or whether this is just a small stand of trees.”
“Then I guess we just keep walking north until we reach something familiar.” Ratio stood, wiped his hands on his trousers, and shouldered his pack.
Jarek started to remind him that they were considerably to the west of where Virgil had taken them. But, absent any better ideas, he left it alone. “Let’s move. Hopefully this fog will burn off once the sun comes up.”
Burns, for the first time since early the previous day, offered her unenthusiastic assessment. “If the sun comes up.”
They broke out of the trees within an hour. Apparently, they had not reached the forest, just a copse. The fog dissipated, leaving the trio under a dismal, charcoal sky. To the right and ahead of them, Jarek could barely make out an outline of dense brush. “Hold up for a minute.” He stared intently at the bushes while trying to recall his previous trip. “I think I remember going through some heavy brush before we got to the forest. Burns, do you recall?” He glanced back at his friend, who only shrugged.
Ratio nodded toward the brush. “Okay then, let’s move in that direction.”
Jarek felt better immediately. It made sense. This group had detoured to the west to visit Brother Martin’s farm. Tacking back to the east would put them closer to where they should be. And the appearance of the bushes cemented his confidence. At last, things were starting to improve, even if Burns wasn’t coming out of it.
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