The Cursed Lands

by Timothy L. Cerepaka

  “As long as they have the Slayer to defend them, they should be fine,” said Sarzen. “We need to worry about ourselves, because we’re a bigger target than the slaves due to the fact that we freed them in the first place.”

  “Right,” said Helnia. She stretched her arms. “I just hope that, whatever awaits us at Ferro’s Pass, we can handle it.”

  “I’m sure we can,” said Sarzen. “Just have faith, sister. Just have faith.”

  -

  Despite Sarzen’s reassurances to Helnia, the air among the caravan was tense. Everyone had to remain alert and awake almost all the time, because they did not know when or if they would be attacked by Draymens again. Even Helnia, not much of a fighter, would join in the night watches for when they camped at night, using her magic to create a light that would hopefully keep the Draymens away.

  Nights in the Cursed Lands were almost nothing like nights in Yores. In Yores, the moon and stars usually shone during the night, but in the Cursed Lands, there was no such thing as the moon or stars. That made every night dark … very, very dark. The darkness of the night amplified every sound; Sarzen would often be jolted awake by the sound of crunching leaves or the swish of a sleeping horse’s tail, only to discover that the sound was not the herald of a Draymens attack on their group.

  The land itself became harsher the farther south they traveled. It became rocky and uneven, very unsuitable for horses or carts. More than once, the wheel of a cart would pop off or break, forcing them to stop to repair it. They usually used the supplies of wood and nails on the cart, but sometimes they had to use magic for particularly bad accidents. And the fact was that they did not have all of the Raugus in the world to use, so Sarzen always regretted having to use it on something as mundane as fixing a broken wheel.

  Speaking of the horses, they needed more food and water than the humans. At first, they were able to provide the horses with sustenance, but as they journeyed deeper and deeper into the Cursed Lands, it became harder and harder to find streams or creeks at which they could water their beasts of burden. The Cursed Lands seemed incredibly dry; it was possible there may have been water somewhere deep beneath the surface, but they had neither the tools nor patience nor time to focus on digging a well and bringing that water to the surface.

  Despite all of this, however, Sarzen kept his hope and faith alive. He told himself that it was not so bad, that the Draymens had yet to find them, and that it was possible that they might reach Ferro’s Pass without running into any Draymens at all. It seemed unlikely, but then, the Cursed Lands were supposed to be very large, so perhaps it was so large that the Draymens would be unable to track them down. That’s what Sarzen told himself and it was a theory he repeated to the others whenever he heard them worry about being attacked.

  More than anything, the news that their parents might still be alive excited Sarzen. For ten years, he had just assumed that they were dead and that they would never seem them again. But now, there was a possibility—however slight, however remote—that their parents were not only alive, but actively seeking out the Dragon Gods.

  Sarzen was just stunned at how he and his sister were undertaking the very same quest that their parents had taken without even knowing it. It made Sarzen feel certain that this quest was destined for success, that no matter what kind of dangers and troubles stood between them and the Dragon Gods, that they would succeed.

  That was why Sarzen kept his spirits up. His faith that everything would work out one way or another convinced him that he needed to keep his chin up and never fall into despair. He wished that he could share this excitement with Helnia, but she seemed moody ever since they left Reck, though again he guessed it was because of her time as a Draymens slave. As far as he knew, she was not suffering from any long-lasting injuries, but she probably was suffering from some serious psychological damage. He remembered how young Pula had been so scared to do anything that might anger her master and he wondered if part of that fear had been instilled in Helnia during her time as a slave.

  Probably not, he thought. Helnia wasn’t a slave nearly as long as Pula, plus she’s much stronger, mentally-speaking, than Pula. I’m sure she’s just going through a temporary phase; she’ll probably be better after a few days of travel.

  They did not run into any Draymens towns or settlements on their journey south. In fact, the Cursed Lands felt totally uninhabited, as if they had been abandoned long ago. They did, however, pass the ruins of strange altars rising from the earth, altars that did not look like anything that the Draymens made, but there was nothing to indicate what these altars were, where they came from, or what their purpose was. The only thing they noticed about the altars was the powerful sense of evil and wrongness emanating from them. Even though they could not see any Draymens around the altars, they always made a point to not camp until the altars were out of their line of sight.

  On the third day of their journey from Reck, they stopped to have lunch for the day. As usual, they went off the main path and formed a protective circle with the carts. The horses were taken away by a handful of Warrior Priests to eat some of the gray, dead grass that poked through the earth, while everyone else sat and ate. Except for Helnia, who insisted that she wasn’t hungry. She just took a nap in the cart.

  So Sarzen ate lunch with Rothel. Rothel looked rather long-faced today; despite eating his favorite ham sandwich, he looked as though someone had just told him that his mother had died.

  “Why the long face?” said Sarzen, sitting down in the cart next to Rothel.

  Rothel looked at Sarzen with a start, as if he had just awakened from a long sleep. “What? Oh, it was just … I was thinking of the people we lost to that cloud back in Reck. They were lost under my control. It’s my fault they died.”

  “Oh,” said Sarzen. “You don’t need to be so hard on yourself. I mean, there was nothing any of us could have done to save them. That creature was unlike anything any of us have fought before; if Pula and I hadn’t rallied and armed the slaves, we would have all been goners.”

  “Perhaps,” said Rothel. He tip a sip of water from his flask, though his expression didn’t change. “I think it may also be because of this land. The Cursed Lands are a terrible place. Evil permeates the air; it’s unnatural.”

  Sarzen shuddered. “I know. None of the old stories about the Cursed Lands accurately capture how evil it feels. I understand why the Draymens want to leave it; it’s not a good place.”

  “Indeed,” said Rothel. “I find it strange that the Dragon Gods would go through this place, but I guess they didn’t stay long. They just passed through on their way to who-knows-where.”

  Sarzen nodded, but frowned. “Is there something else bothering you? You don’t seem to be telling me everything.”

  Rothel just kept chewing up his sandwich before swallowing and saying, “It’s the events that have happened recently. Like the theft of Renuk’s corpse and the assassination of Misma. We still don’t have any answers for those events.”

  Sarzen scowled at the mention of the theft of Renuk’s corpse. “Don’t remind me. If I ever find out who stole his body, I will personally behead them. I won’t even hesitate.”

  “It is a disgusting act for sure,” said Rothel. “But it feels like part of something much bigger. Don’t you sense it? It’s like we’re being guided along by someone, or maybe something, else and we don’t even know it.”

  “I always thought that the Dragon Gods are guiding us to an extent,” said Sarzen. “But you’re not referring to them, are you?”

  “No, I’m not,” said Rothel. “And I think it may be tied to why we’ve not been attacked or even seen any Draymens since Reck. I think the Draymens want us to reach Ferro’s Pass.”

  “Why?” said Sarzen. “Why would they want us to do that? If we reach Ferro’s Pass, then we could cross it and possibly find the Dragon Gods.”

  “Maybe it isn’t the Draymens who want us to do it,” said Rothel. “But someone else, like the One of Shad
ow that they worship.”

  “The One is dead, though,” said Sarzen. “All of the legends state that he was killed by the Dragon Gods. He’s not a threat anymore.”

  “That Draymens said he was going to rise again, though,” said Rothel. “Remember? The one we fought shortly after we left Ars. It said that the One was going to rise again.”

  “It was probably just saying that to discourage us,” said Sarzen. “Besides, how could it possibly know whether that will happen? It’s not like the Draymens can see the future.”

  “You’re right,” said Rothel. “I’m just worrying about nothing. But I do wonder about Ars.”

  “What about Ars?” said Sarzen.

  “I’m worried that the Draymens might have already attacked it,” said Rothel. “We haven’t heard from them in two weeks. Of course, it isn’t like we have any way of contacting them, but I fear that we may be too late, that even if we find the Dragon Gods, Ars and the other mountain cities might fall by the time we get back.”

  “That’s possible,” Sarzen said. “The Draymens did not give us a timeline for when they would attack, but hopefully they will be more focused on trying to capture us than attack Ars.”

  “I hope so, too,” said Rothel. “But I’m thinking about what the Slayer said, something he told me before he led the slaves out of Reck.”

  “What did he say?” said Sarzen.

  “He said that the Elect is intentionally not helping the people,” said Rothel. “That they are allowing the Draymens to ravage Yores. That’s why the Draymens have been able to cause so much damage; it’s because the Elect want them to.”

  Sarzen shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I know the Elect aren’t exactly the most … moral individuals, but that sounds too crazy to be true. Why would the Elect want the Draymens to kill their fellow countrymen? It makes no sense.”

  “I don’t know why,” said Rothel. “I just know that that is what the Slayer theorized. He may be wrong, but at the same time, his theory would explain why the Draymens haven’t been stopped yet.”

  Sarzen rubbed his forehead. “Do you think … that the Elect might somehow be connected to Renuk’s death?”

  “Maybe,” said Rothel. He shook his head. “I don’t know. There is far too much happening, stuff none of us even understand. From now on, we’ll need to be more careful than ever.”

  “Right,” said Sarzen. “But we’re almost to Ferro’s Pass. Once we cross it, we should be safe.”

  “Assuming the Draymens even allow us to cross it,” said Rothel, “which I doubt they will.”

  “We’ll handle whatever obstacles the Draymens put in our path,” said Sarzen, punching his fist into his other hand. “No matter what.”

  “Yeah,” said Rothel. “Let’s hope that the Dragon Gods are with us, because I have a feeling we’ll need their blessing more than ever very soon.”

  ***

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  There was no doubt in Helnia’s mind now: Their parents were still alive and they would be at Ferro’s Pass. Hearing Elum talk about their parents’ own quest to find the Dragon Gods had only cemented that thought in her mind.

  Helnia had still yet to share the letter from their parents with Sarzen. She thought about it, she considered it, but in the end she still had some doubt about its authenticity. But truly, it was because she did not want to betray Sarzen’s trust; if he knew that she had had that letter from their parents the entire time and she had not even mentioned it to him, she doubted he would be very happy about it.

  Then again, if their parents really were at Ferro’s Pass … then it was likely that the letter would come out. Either way, Helnia would not be able to keep the letter secret from Sarzen forever. She thought she should just show it to him now and get it over with, but she hesitated. Perhaps it was because a part of her, deep underneath her confidence, thought that their parents might not be in Ferro’s Pass; thus, there would be no reason to share a fake letter with Sarzen and get his hopes up.

  It might not matter if our parents aren’t actually there, though, Helnia thought.

  They were riding through the Cursed Lands early in the morning. Helnia glanced at Sarzen; he seemed very excited, based on the way he tapped the floor of the cart with his fingers and even bounced a little. The map of the Cursed Lands was laid out on the floor between them, held down by a few rocks at each corner, and it wouldn’t be long now, according to the map, before they arrived at Ferro’s Pass.

  Indeed, it was about five minutes later that the cart driver shouted, “I see Ferro’s Pass!” which caused Helnia and Sarzen to stand up and look in the direction in which the driver was pointing.

  Far ahead, visible under the weak sunlight of the Cursed Lands, was a large pass. It looked like a god had dragged a giant sword through the earth, tearing it apart and connecting the first half of the Cursed Lands with the second half. Ferro’s Pass was enormous, much bigger than Helnia expected; she thought that an entire army could fit comfortably within it with room to spare for half an army more.

  But the Pass was not empty. Inside the Pass, situated right in the center where it took up the entire space, was a large, shrine-like structure. It looked like a mixture between a shrine and a castle, with tall turrets rising from the center and dozens of smaller buildings scattered around it. Its gates had been smashed off their hinges long ago; they lay on the earth, rusted and covered in dirt, creating a large opening through which their caravan could safely pass through.

  There were no Draymens around it, but that did not mean anything; there could just as easily be Draymens hiding somewhere inside. Helnia rubbed her hands together, but Sarzen didn’t look at all nervous. He was just smiling, smiling as brightly as if he had just been told the best news in the world.

  “There it is,” said Sarzen. He looked at Helnia with a smile. “Our destination. Once we pass through, we’ll be that much closer to finding the Dragon Gods.”

  “Yeah,” said Helnia. She rubbed her arm. “But what is it? I didn’t know Ferro’s Pass had a castle on it.”

  “I’m not sure, but I recall reading about some of the legends regarding Ferro’s Pass,” said Sarzen. “According to the legends, that is not a castle; rather, it is an old worship site to the One of Shadow, built ages ago, even before the Dragon Gods came, as a place for the Draymens to worship their god. It is called the Shrine of the One. Supposedly, Draymens committed all kinds of butchery and debauchery inside it, even sacrificing their own children to please the One.”

  Helnia gulped. “Uh, that doesn’t sound good.”

  “Agreed, but don’t worry, the legends said the Draymens abandoned it after the One’s death,” said Sarzen. “There have been no sacrifices or worship services held there since the One’s death a thousand years ago. Therefore, I doubt we’ll come upon any scary or dangerous rituals inside.”

  Helnia didn’t respond to that. She just peered closer at the Shrine, trying to see if she could spot anyone—their parents in particular—somewhere around or near the Shrine. But she did not spot any movement or figures among the ruins of the Shrine; it appeared to be totally abandoned.

  Maybe they’re inside it, Helnia thought as she and Sarzen sat back down in the cart. Waiting for us to arrive, waiting to see us. I wonder what they will say when they see us.

  She glanced at Sarzen. He looked like he just wanted to jump out of the cart and run the rest of the way to the Shrine on foot, but he stayed where he was. He was now humming what sounded like a Warrior Priest hymn under his breath, though Helnia did not understand why.

  Maybe Sarzen won’t be angry with me about not telling him about the letter once he sees our parents, Helnia thought. He will probably forgive me. He is a very forgiving person.

  Helnia glanced at her bag, where she kept the letter. The letter was currently buried deep beneath her possessions in that bag, but Helnia opened her bag and pulled the letter out—but without Sarzen noticing; he was too busy looking at the incoming temple to pay at
tention to what she was doing. She slipped the letter into her robes, intending to show it to their parents once they saw them again.

  It wasn’t much longer before they reached the Shrine of the One. Up close, the Shrine was enormous; not quite as large as the buildings of Ars, but bigger than any structure that they had seen in the Cursed Lands yet. It towered above them, the windows in its upper floors staring down at them like the displeased eyes of a judgmental god. Helnia did not see anyone in the windows, but it still felt like the Shrine did not want them to enter. The horses whinnied nervously, while everyone stayed alert, keeping their eyes and ears open for any traps.

  But before the first cart could pass under the huge arch of the Shrine, Rothel suddenly said, “Hey, stop!”

  The caravan came to an abrupt stop, the clacking of horse hooves against stone instantly going silent.

  Sarzen looked over his shoulder in annoyance. “What? Did you see something, Rothel?”

  Rothel shook his head. “No. But I think we should send a scout ahead first.”

  “Why?” said Sarzen.

  “To look out for any traps or ambushes,” said Rothel. He gestured at the huge Temple. “This is exactly the kind of place where Draymens would set a trap for us. We’re not even sure what the interior is like. It makes sense to send someone in to make sure there aren’t any unpleasant surprises waiting for us.”

  Sarzen sighed, but said, “Fine. I’ll do it.”

  “You?” said Rothel. “But you’re the leader. You need to stay here.”

  “No, it’s fine,” said Sarzen as he stood up. “I can protect myself just fine against the Draymens. Besides, I doubt there are any traps in there, so I don’t think I will get harmed.”

  “You shouldn’t go in alone,” said Rothel. “I—”

  “I will go with you,” said Helnia, interrupting Rothel. She stood up. “With my magic, we should be able to protect ourselves no matter what awaits us.”