The Sweet Series Box Set: Books 1-4

by Bailey Ardisone

  It felt like I could see for miles from up here. The horizon stretched on and on. Crazy-shaped mountains towered in the distance behind a sparkling blue sea. Rolling hills, dazzling streams, vibrant trees, and soaring birds singing pretty songs filled the expansive land. I gasped, holding a shaky hand to my mouth. It was so beautiful. Unlike anything in my wildest dreams. The soft, early blue sky was clearer than a crystal glass; I thought for sure I could make out the tiniest details in the mountains that had to be hundreds of miles away.

  Carefully, I made my way over the hill, trying my best not to fall down it like a tumbleweed. That’d be just my luck. A broken neck was all I needed on top of everything else I had wrong with me. I slipped a few times, but I was able to catch my balance again. Reaching the bottom, I was proud of myself for managing that without a complete disaster ensuing.

  I thought of Cathar and how he had told me a couple weeks ago that I had natural instincts of great balance and grace coursing through my system. I had wanted to laugh then, and I could laugh from it now. Me? Grace and excellent balance? That was the biggest joke of the century. I could hardly make it out the front door without some sort of catastrophe happening. I was the opposite of grace and elegance. Honestly, it was hard to believe I shared the same DNA as all these beautiful and ethereal elves that lived here. I was nothing like them.

  They were wise, swift, and precise. I was unwise, foolish, slow, and a total mess. I was more human than elf. Except when I was in defense-mode. Only then could I tap into my elfy-ness and be greater than I normally was. It was an incredible feeling, one that I would miss severely if I ever lost it. I enjoyed the strength that came with my elven abilities and feel of control over the elements. The only thing I needed to learn was how to control my emotions when it came to Tavas and Isil battling each other. The last thing I wanted was to go crazy again and start on another killing spree. I needed to be more cautious, careful, and figure out a way to disable the Isil soldiers from attacking my people without actually killing them. But I had no idea if that was even possible, let alone if I were even capable of carrying out something like that. I prayed I wouldn’t have to find out anytime soon.

  Just when I couldn’t take another step out of exhaustion and pain, hope bubbled in my chest. The town I had seen from the hill came into view. It wasn’t very far away at all. If I could get food and water, and perhaps a doctor of some sort, maybe I could get through this just fine. As I drew closer, I recognized the town. It was the Nianott village that Cathar and I had gone to before. The one the Night Elves destroyed, killing my sweet new friends—Marywane and Kirtly. I worked my mind to recall the name of the town, thinking it was something like Durdell, but I really couldn’t be sure.

  My feet carried me absentmindedly to the main street. It was in shambles, exactly the way I had last seen it. The difference was that already the townsfolk were busy cleaning it up and rebuilding what was lost. I thought of Marywane and Kirtly, and the way the people here had been so happy and carefree. A heavy sadness plagued every corner now, stifling the joy and mirth like a blanket.

  “Oi! Your kind are not welcome here, she-elf!” a voice called to me from a place I couldn’t quite make out yet. It hurt to even swivel my head in its direction. I pretended I didn’t hear him and kept going in hopes of finding a person of medicine, or maybe a place for food. Once he had said those words, however, all eyes whipped in my direction.

  Accusatory looks and whispers of malcontent struck me harshly, as if I were punched in the gut. I tried to quicken my pace. I winced from the pain it caused and bit my lip to keep from crying out. I was sure I’d be suffering from gangrene if I didn’t get these wounds taken care of as soon as possible.

  The smell of food wafted in my nose, so I let it guide me through the streets. My mouth salivated as I followed it; the lack of food and water made my need and desire for it to overtake everything else. All I could think about was getting food in my mouth—I didn’t care what it was. My stomach twisted in agreement as I continued heading toward the smell of bread.

  Once I found the source, I stumbled through the already opened doorway and collapsed onto a stool at the bar. All activity ceased upon my entry, giving me the indication that I was unwelcome. Eyes zeroed in on my face. I could feel it like a heat lamp. I looked around and took in the people standing about staring at me, their brooms and cleaning tools held frozen in their hands.

  “What are you doing here?” a female inquired from the corner. She had strawberry-blonde, curly hair that sat lazily atop her head, and streaks of ash smeared across her cheeks.

  “I’m just looking for food and water, and maybe medical aid. I’m hurt. Please, I’m only asking for shelter until I feel strong enough to go on my way again,” I answered her question in the nicest, most humble way I could manage.

  “You cannot be here. It was your kind that destroyed this village and killed our kin. Get out!” a male voice demanded harshly from my right.

  “I feel awful for what happened here. I’m so sorry for it, you have to believe me. In fact, I was friends with Marywane and Kirtly. You have no idea how saddened I am by their deaths. The deaths of all who had lived here,” I explained heartily, but just talking took energy that I didn’t even have.

  “Your words mean nothing when you’re in want of food and shelter. They’re only lies to get what you want out of us,” he answered back. The rest of the people that stood around all nodded their heads and made noises of agreement.

  “No, that isn’t the case at all. I even avenged the lives that were lost here. Those Isil’Elda soldiers that did all this? They’re dead. I took care of them because of what I had found here. Because of what they did. Please believe me. I would’ve never hurt a hair on anyone’s head in this village. Or any of you! I don’t want that,” I couldn’t help going on and on, trying to convince them that I wasn’t the same as the Night Elves they were unfairly lumping me together with. I clasped my hands together in front of my chest, begging them to believe me.

  “Then you enjoy death? You relish exacting revenge and taking lives? We do not want your kind here, regardless of your intentions. Your people love death. They crave battle and vengeance. But that is not our way. We tried to be peaceful with the elves. We kept neutral in the war that the North and South kingdoms foolishly hold to. And yet, your kin dealt out malicious acts of violence and murder despite our meekness. How dare you come here and expect our aid after everything you troublemakers have done. You will never be welcome here or in our west village of Burrbein again.” The one who had been conversing with me held his arm up and pointed in the direction of the exit, demanding I leave.

  “I don’t enjoy death. I’m regretful for what I’ve done. I’m not the same as those soldiers. They’re hunting me as we speak. Please, if I leave now, they’ll certainly find me if I don’t die from these wounds first. Please, I’m begging you.” I contemplated getting down on my knees. “Even if you could just spare a piece of bread, some water, and bandages. That’s all I’m asking, and then I’ll be on my way.”

  “Night Elf warriors are hunting you? And you came here? If they were to discover we assisted you, they’d punish us the way they did this village! You have brought great evil here, she-elf. Be on your way this instant before I throw you out! Make haste!” The Nianott male took heavy steps toward me, making me flinch.

  He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me off the stool. I struggled to stay upright, my hopes and dreams of filling my belly with food shattering to pieces. I was so hungry, so thirsty, I would’ve given anything for a crumb or even one drop of water. Not to mention my gashes were excruciatingly painful.

  The creature of Luïnil dragged me from the small pub, and it required everything I could muster not to pass out from the agony. The white-hot, blinding pain took over all my senses, making it impossible to see, hear, feel, or even think about anything else but my suffering.

  I didn’t even notice that we had left the village, until one heavy thrust later,
I was tossed onto my sore hands and knees beneath the shade of a tree. My heart broke in two like porcelain. The sun didn’t even warm me. The calm breeze couldn’t even touch me. I was lost and broken, unsure if I could even stand back up. The pull to keep going and find whatever it was that called me onward felt faint. I couldn’t even give it my thoughts or attention. All I wanted to do was sleep and never, ever wake up.

  Growing up, I always used sleep as my place of solace. My one safe-haven that I could reach anytime Ray was at home and drunk. A place where I could forget about all my troubles and worries, even if only for a moment before nightmares would trickle in. I was used to sleep being my coping mechanism, and so I begged for sleep to take me away now and ease my pain.

  Unexpectedly, something landed next to my legs with a loud thump. I was too weak to jump or do anything except open my eyes into slits. A canvas bag sat next to me, along with dirty feet a little ways back from where I was. My eyes crawled upward to find they belonged to one of the villagers. A young girl with a saddened smile and wavy brown hair stood before me and nodded toward the bag.

  “Food, water, and bandages,” she squeaked softly. Turning on her heel, she was set to leave, but I stopped her.

  “Wait,” I croaked, feeling utterly drained to manage more than that. “Thank you.”

  She slowly turned back to face me once more. “What’s your name?”

  “Nariella,” I answered her. “What’s yours?”

  She shook her head, keeping silent, not wanting to provide that bit of information, despite me already giving her my name. I smirked, feeling fooled by a little girl. She lowered to the ground and began picking at the grass, her eyes staying on mine.

  Reaching for the bag, my stomach rolled in response, knowing it was about to get food. It made an awful noise, and the girl giggled. I hardly paid attention as I grabbed the bread and stuffed it in my mouth. I couldn’t chew fast enough before I took the water pouch and tried to squeeze in the liquid along with my mouthful of baked awesomeness.

  “You’re bleeding,” she stated matter-of-fact as I continued to obliterate my food and water like a wild animal.

  I nodded my head, since it was all I could do with bread in my mouth. I swallowed a few times, then gave a muffled, “Yeah.”

  “You look atrocious,” she commented unabashedly. I laughed then, almost choking on my meal. She scooted closer to me, then pulled the bandages out of the sack. “My mother is a medicine-giver. That’s how I got these cotton cloths and balm. Here.”

  She began tending to my wounds gently, but the pain was still so much, I almost lost the food I just put into my stomach. I closed my eyes tight and tried to let her work her magic, though it was shocking a girl so young could possibly know what she was doing. She had to be six-years-old at the most, if not younger. Not that I could ever really know, since I had no idea how Nianott people aged. Perhaps it was different than human kids I was used to seeing.

  “This might help only a little. But you really need someone who can perform stronger medicine. I brought you what you asked for, but it won’t heal you,” she said softly after finishing with tying the bandage.

  “Thank you for this. It really was kind of you. The food and water was more than enough. And the bandage will help keep more dirt from getting in, so it’s worth it to me. Thank you so much,” I conveyed my gratitude with sincerity.

  She stood up to leave, and this time I let her. She turned and gave me a small wave. “My name is Rosie. I hope you make it to wherever you’re going.”

  I smiled, giving a wave back. I was still extremely weak. The small piece of bread wasn’t enough to fill my stomach or even restore my energy. But it was something. And that gave me the push I needed to keep going.

  My legs felt like squished noodles as I let the invisible string lead me onward. Whatever this thing I followed was better be epically awesome and worth all this trouble. Something told me that it was, and the desire to get to it flared stronger than ever. It called me the way a mother beseeches a lost child.

  The entire rest of the day went by as I took step after step, never giving up. The more I walked and stumbled, the more the magnet grew stronger. I was getting closer—I could feel it.

  My body was weakened and damaged beyond repair. I could hardly breathe, hardly even see where I was going. Fresh blood seeped into the cloth bandages Rosie had tied around my waist. Even though I knew I was close to my destination, hopelessness returned full-force in my heart. It didn’t matter that I was almost there, because I didn’t think I would live to see whatever it was that wanted me to come in the first place.

  A convulsion rocked my system, pitching me forward. I fell to my hands and knees, but forced myself to stand again. My eyes were clouded, although even if they weren’t, I couldn’t keep my lids open. I was so tired. So hungry and thirsty.

  Then suddenly, my foot went through open air instead of landing on the ground like I had expected. I tumbled over the edge of something, in a somersault that I had no intention of performing, and hit the ground below again. My body kept rolling until I finally stopped, ending up on my back.

  But I couldn’t move.

  Chapter Six

  ~Naminé~

  The crackling embers were just loud enough to awaken me. Ender had enchanted the fire to burn the entire night through, until the sun made its appearance high in the sky, since it was our only source of heat. Lómë’s breathing was deep and slow. I prayed she would be all right, as I promised Rydan she would be.

  Calen’s poor wing was still broken. I could feel her pain as if it were my own. Maite’Ona such as myself had a way of turning off that particular aspect of our connection, but I did not find favor in doing so. If the other half of my soul was hurting, I wanted to know her pain also. And yet, in these dire circumstances, I was forced to shut myself off to her pain in order to be at my best potential to assist Ender. I would not have the means to carry him all the way into town if my arm was useless and soul racking in pain. I knew she would understand and would forgive me for it.

  Turning to Lómë, I could not tell for certain what was specifically the matter with her, or how exactly she had been injured. Though there was matted blood around her body, I was much too afraid to disturb any of her wounds and cause more pain. I stroked her thick, heavy fur. She was quite beautiful even with her white coat dirtied and in this horrible condition. I lowered my lips to her ear and whispered, “Forgive us for leaving. For we must, but we shall return as soon as we are able. Calen will watch over you.”

  I had made an effort to dream-weave with Falla last night in hopes of learning any possible way that could help either Fëa, but I was unsuccessful due to my head injury. I could not focus properly or muster the energy needed to form a connection. My fear was that it could also be the fact that I did not have a strong link to Luïnil whilst here in the Earthly realm, but I did not want to believe that was the reason. If it were, it would mean there could be no hope of dream-weaving with her, even if I were to recover from my wound. And I could not have that. I must speak to her if I were to help Lómë and Calen.

  On a new day, I would try to dream-weave with Falla once more. For now, I did what I could with a command that would ease the pain of both Fëa and make them comfortable. Ender had built a new fire that would not die for the two animals to rest near, and then protected the area with an enchantment so that no human might stumble upon their whereabouts.

  “The humans will ask many questions. Let me do most of the talking, even should a direct question be asked of you. I have been in this realm before and am already familiar with their ways. Thankfully, I have established an identity that I can use when required,” Ender explained in a low voice, though I did not see why, since we were alone. Certainly, we would have been able to tell if any humans were near enough to overhear our voices. Perhaps he wished to err on the side of caution. “Are you ready?”

  “Mm, yes.” I cleared my throat and did all I could to call forth courage. The t
ruth was, I was a bit frightened to be in this realm without Rydan as a guide. “Yes, I am ready.”

  I gave Lómë one last pat good-bye, and then embraced Calen next as I exuded as much encouragement to my Fëa as possible. I relayed through my emotions the sentiments to be careful and watch her friend closely. She agreed and promised she would.

  I tucked myself under Ender’s arm, and he draped his weight over my shoulder with his other hand held firm to his bleeding wound. If he were to uncover it, it would continue to gush blood. He had no other choice but to keep pressure on it, and therefore, I was responsible for grasping his body tightly to keep it upright as we walked. He was awfully heavy, and it did not ease the ache that planted itself in my cranium.

  Doing as Rydan told us, we made our way southwest toward the small hills, and we moved rather slowly, to say the least. It was quite difficult to carry an elda twice my weight, though, I was determined not to let the strain show in my demeanor. I had it much easier than poor Ender did. What mattered was his life, and I certainly had no reason to complain.

  The cold breeze blew past us in a rushing playfulness, but I was in no mood to appease it. My body shivered automatically from the low temperature, despite the heavy burden I had been fated to carry. Ender commented, “It is quite cool, is it not?”

  “It most certainly is. Perhaps if we were dressed properly, it would not be so bad. Unfortunately, we are clothed in thin material that does naught for our protection from the cold.” I could not stop trembling, and my teeth chattered the entire time I spoke.

  “Look there, I believe I see houses in the distance, unless I am growing delirious.” Ender coughed and then wheezed, flinching as he did so. It was obviously painful, and it sent my own gut turning in empathy.