Half asleep, she reached for another journal, dragging the tattered surface across the table, her fingers barely aware of the contact she made with the binding. It was starting to feel useless. If the creature in the stories was in fact purely myth, there would be no information in these writings. She silently prayed for it to be nothing more than legend. A creature so fantastical as the one rumored would be impossible to take down. It was easier to consider it a new threat, unknown to anyone, and perfectly capable of being killed rather than discovering it to be a legendary beast, feared by their ancestors, with no means of destruction.
The thought of giving up was tempting. Her hand moved to the outside edge of the journal to close it in defeat when a word on the page seemed to jump out at her, piquing her interest. Avaern. The word upon everyone’s lips throughout the village. A god-like spirit inhabiting the body of a great beast whose power was unmatched by any worldly being. It was deified for its strength and immense capabilities with the same energy possessed within every Ovatai. Could it be? The Chief whose words scrawled across the page wrote as if this creature was more than a mere fairytale. Afraid to read on, Neomi let her index finger slip under the page in preparation to turn it, enraptured by the story laid out before her on the pages. In a haze she flipped to the next page, drawing in a deep breath at the image drawn upon the vellum. There, in faded ink, was the beast they had witnessed in the village of Isavo. The serpent-shaped body, the immense wingspan – there was no doubt in her mind that it was the same.
To see the picture rekindled the fear that clutched her heart. This journal was older than many of the civilizations throughout Myatheira. Whatever danger this beast had posed to her people, it had been contained long before the Vor’shai laid claim to the Tanispan lands to the south of Ethrysta. Even before the humans had risen to any significance.
Rising from her chair Neomi pressed the journal against her chest, not wanting to close it in fear of discovering the image to be nothing more than a sleep-induced hallucination. She needed to show her father. He would be able to determine whether this was truly the dangerous beast they believed it to be. If their people had found a means of restraining it so long ago, there must be a way they could do the same now.
“Father!” she called out, running through the corridors of their home, nearly slipping on the ice of the upper levels. Regaining her balance she hurried into the main hall, her entrance immediately drawing the attention of every warrior gathered around Onuric and the Chief. “Father, I must show you something.”
“What is it, Neomi?” he questioned, a hint of irritation in his voice. “We are trying to conduct business. Speak with haste or come back later.”
She ignored the bite to his tone. Everyone was tired. It would do her no good to get worked up over his frustration when it was not caused by her alone. “I have found something in the old journals in regards to the beast we saw in Isavo.”
Cocking his head to one side Okivra stepped from the group, his hand outstretched to his daughter. “Hand it over. We have little time to waste.”
Hesitant, she removed the journal from against her chest, letting her eyes trail over it one last time to make sure the sketch was still there, exhaling in relief to discover it was where she left it. She wasn’t imagining things. This beast was real… or at least something similar enough to it. Her father snatched it from her fingers, the crease on his forehead deepening to look upon it. His entire demeanor seemed to change, waving Neomi to come closer.
“This is worse than feared,” he announced, his hand lightly resting upon Neomi’s back, guiding her toward the group of warriors, their eyes watching him intently. “It would be suicide for us to attempt a battle against a beast fit for the gods when our numbers have been depleted by Emakai’s foolishness.” Focusing his attention on each of the men in turn he handed the journal to Onuric. “If what my daughter has found is truly the beast we face, I regret to inform you that we will need to seek assistance outside Ethrysta.”
“You cannot be serious,” Onuric frowned. There was a flash of anger in his eyes. “We Ovatai do not ask for help. The Avaern is a myth. You cannot believe this is what we saw.”
“Did you not see the beast? Did you not feel the strength of it? That creature weakened us. I felt the way it drew its power as if pulling it from my very body.” The Chief set his jaw, eyes narrowed, clenching his fists at his sides to keep from shouting at his son. “The Avaern may have been nothing more than a legend for generations but that does not mean it was not at one time a beast of reality.”
“According to the stories, the Ythes killed the beast.”
“Perhaps that is the myth.”
“Chief Okivra, if I may,” Moinie cut in, stepping between the two men. “Who exactly do you propose we seek assistance from? If this creature truly is the Avaern, no human or their pathetic weapons will be of any use.”
“We have other allies than humans,” Okivra nodded. “The Vor’shai are strong fighters. I have witnessed as much in my years. Although they lack control and ease with the energy, they are more suited to battle. I have faith that they would be sufficient to increase our numbers without having to stretch our request beyond the Tanispan borders.”
Onuric’s frown transformed into an angry scowl, no longer making any attempt to disguise his discontent. “I refuse to beg the Vor’shai for help. We do not need them.”
“Do not be a fool!” Okivra shouted, the volume of his voice echoing through the icy walls. The other men took a step backward at the force, glancing nervously between one another. “Our people may be proud, but we are not idiots. Had Emakai not weakened our forces we might have had a chance at taking the beast down without assistance. Have you seen the village? Have you noted the number of men missing from our ranks? The Ythes are practically extinct after their traitorous assault. The Hauthus and Velinost tribes suffer significant losses from our last battle. Assistance must be requested of our allies or we will all be dead within the month if that beast is left alive.”
Neomi listened to her father and brother with rising interest, curious of what her father was suggesting. The Vor’shai? They were to request their southern neighbors to journey into Ethrysta? She’d never seen such a thing before. While the land in Tanispa experienced harsh winters, the climate was nothing like that of Nahedu and the northern landscape of Ethrysta. If the beast didn’t kill the soldiers first, the cold was sure to be their destruction.
She could see the argument from both sides. Pride told her to aid Onuric in his attempts at convincing their father not to call for help. The rational part of her mind was what kept her silent. For the Chief to concede so easily on the notion of asking for help… it said a great deal about their predicament. He wasn’t the type to admit defeat with any ease. The call he made now was for the sake of his people. Their numbers were limited. If Emakai had not been taken down that last night in Isavo, they wouldn’t have been able to hold out much longer in a battle against a single tribe, let alone the strength of a creature like the Avaern.
Another part of her took a strange fascination in the concept of bringing the Vor’shai north. She was curious about them. The people rumored to have once been amongst the ranks of the Ovatai, migrating south, adapting to the changes over time. It was nothing more than rumor, much like the stories of the Avaern. Many disapproved of the possibility, citing it as nothing more than wild speculation as to how the Vor’shai came to possess the energy within them, although weaker than the Ovatai. They were the only race outside their own of which her father had ever spoken favorably. The only ones she held any respect for, albeit based solely on the stories told by the Chief. She would beg for whatever assistance her father required if it would allow her a glimpse of the world outside the frozen landscape she’d called home for over a hundred years.
“I will go, Father.”
Every head in the room turned at the sound of her voice. Onuric’s mouth hung agape, shaking his head at her, vehement in his disapproval.
“You will do no such thing, Neomi.”
“That call is not yours to make,” Okivra’s head snapped to the side, gazing sternly at his son. “When you hold the title of Chief, you may make whatever foolish decisions you like. Until that time, you will abide by my commands and respect my authority as your superior.” Signaling the end of the debate, he shifted his eyes to Neomi, nodding approvingly. “Are you sure you are up to the journey, Neomi? You have never been to Tanispa. It is far different from what you might expect.”
“I am prepared to go, for the sake of our people.”
“Father,” Onuric stepped forward. He was stubborn and hardheaded. Neomi was unsurprised at his unwillingness to give up the argument so easily. “Neomi should remain in Nahedu to help with our plans for an attack on the beast. Can you not send another of your warriors to speak with the Vor’shai Queen? Ewei is more suited to the task.”
“The request should be made by a member of the It’aryn family. It is the honorable way to conduct business,” the Chief huffed. He seemed insistent not to give Onuric the satisfaction of diverting his attention, his eyes locked straight ahead to look into Neomi’s steady gaze. “Even when the Vor’shai came to us for assistance, their Prince ventured into our lands to bring the message. Had it come by any other means, I may not have responded so favorably. You would dishonor our family and our people by sending a mere hunter to them in return?”
Onuric’s mouth closed, pursing his lips in irritation. Neomi found the situation mildly amusing. She could only attribute it to her lack of sleep and the strange giddiness which overwhelmed her at the thought of leaving Ethrysta.
“Very well,” Onuric stated with barely controlled anger. His voice trembled slightly, shaken by the effort it took to keep from shouting at their father. “If you insist on sending Neomi to that wretched place, at least allow my wife to go with her. Moinie is a competent fighter. She will be able to assist if any dangers befall them along the way.”
“It is decided, then. Moinie, you will go with my daughter to the Queen’s palace in Sivaeria,” Okivra grabbed onto Neomi’s arms, holding her still to look her over, appraising in his gaze. Seeming satisfied with what he found he gave her a gentle shake, patting her arm gently before stepping away. “Pack your bags, Neomi. I will have a sled prepared and waiting as soon as you are ready. You can take it until the temperature no longer provides the snow necessary for travel. From there, you will have to make the journey by foot. A few of my men will also accompany you. When outside of Ethrysta, one cannot be too cautious.”
Proudly, she held her chin up, bowing respectfully to her father. It was an honor to be granted his permission to represent their family in such a way. The responsibility tended to land on Onuric’s shoulders under any other circumstance. She viewed this as her chance to prove herself just as useful to her father. Even as a widow, she wasn’t willing to count herself out just yet. She had plenty of life left in her. She just needed to make her family see that. “I will be ready shortly. Tell the men to hasten the preparations of the sled. Moinie and I should be on our way within the hour.”
Edric stood at the entrance of the grand ballroom with Callum at his side, their eyes surveying the spacious area while the doorman announced their names to the assembly. It was unusual for the two princes to walk in together. They didn’t need to hear the words spoken in whispers to know that the absence of Aiva on Callum’s arm had drawn immediate attention and curiosity throughout the room.
With long, confident strides they made their way down the path created by the courtiers toward the thrones where the King and Queen were already seated. The ladies curtsied low, their faces diverted to the floor while their eyes lingered on the two men, batting their lashes demurely. It was a spectacle Edric was all too familiar with while Callum had always been oblivious to the ridiculous antics of the other women. He was fortunate enough to have always had his sights on Aiva, never becoming aware of the numerous girls who would have thrown themselves at him if given the chance. On occasion Edric found it humorous to point out their flirtatiousness simply to watch his friend blush and stammer while denying the attention to be in any way aimed at him.
“So, are you going to make the ladies swoon this evening and dance with them all?” Callum mused, a smirk passing over his features while looking out over the crowd. “Lady Taline is trying quite desperately to catch your eye. If you do not dance with her, I suspect she will weep endlessly for the slight.”
“She will have to endure the tears,” Edric frowned. “I have no intention of dancing with anyone. The company of these women is undesirable and most times far too trying to be worth the effort.”
Callum’s brow rose, peering inquisitively at Edric out of the corner of his eye. “I made the jest in hopes of drawing a hint of what has been troubling you since Aiva and I arrived. Dare I assume that I have somehow struck on the issue harder than intended?”
“What makes you believe I am troubled?”
“Come now, Edric. I have known you my entire life. You don’t need to say anything for it to be obvious. Had I not been in such a state of confusion yesterday, I would have questioned you on it sooner.”
Diverging from the path, Edric moved into the crowd, hoping to direct some of the unwanted attention away from them. There wouldn’t be a moment of peace for them to speak if he didn’t get out of sight quickly and allow the courtiers to find someone else to focus their gossip on. He motioned Callum to come closer, ducking against the wall near the dais where the King and Queen were seated. “Now is hardly the time to discuss details, but since you brought it up, I feel inclined to mention my preference not to associate with the ladies here this evening.”
He gazed at Callum, more desperate than he liked, anxious to hear what his friend would say. Someone had to be on his side in this. The rest of his family would never approve of him avoiding the company of the accomplished ladies at court. If only they understood his reasons. Though Callum might argue, he would be more inclined to listen to Edric’s protests.
“Has something happened since you and I spoke last? Are you involved with someone you don’t want your parents to know about?”
“No, it isn’t that. I’m just… tired of women,” Edric sighed. At Callum’s sudden awkward glance he waved his hands at him in defense, laughing at his own blunder. “I like women, don’t get me wrong. They are the most beautiful creatures to ever walk Myatheira. The problem is that there are no real women to be found in Tanispa who are not already spoken for. We are surrounded by mere girls and I cannot be trifled with children.”
“I suppose I can’t argue that logic. I’m curious how this came about, however.” Callum looked him over carefully. “It feels like not long ago I visited and you were quite content. What has brought about this change?”
Aloof, Edric let his eyes scan the room. It was easier to explain in his mind. To speak of his concerns out loud somehow made it more complicated. In many ways he felt almost childish to complain. There was so much for him to be thankful for in life. He had everything he could ever ask for and more, while there were others in Tanispa who were starving and homeless. Who was he to feel depressed at his inability to find a suitable companion? Comparatively it was trivial. “I shouldn’t have said anything,” he mumbled, stepping briskly past Callum toward the crowd. A strong arm blocked his path, holding him firm.
“I’m your friend, Edric. Why won’t you tell me what weighs so heavily on your mind?” Callum’s tone was demanding. Surprised by the sternness of his actions, Edric stared at him, wide-eyed, aware of the curious looks they once again received from observers.
There was no point in denying him. Callum shared a stubbornness equaled only by Aiva. Edric knew it would accomplish nothing other than creating a scene if he didn’t give Callum something to appease him. “You have no idea what it’s like, Callum,” he huffed, the pent up frustration boiling to the surface in his attempts to maintain composure. “When you reached the age of manhood, you immediately
went away to your military training and never were exposed to being a single male at court. Especially one of significant rank. The women are ruthless in their search of a husband who will improve the status of their family and if the woman herself isn’t greedy, the fault falls on her parents. They hunt men of power for sport. Not love.”
At the statement Edric noticed a hint of irritation in Callum’s eyes. “I may have gone away at a young age, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what it’s like to be hunted by a woman for sport. You forget my past, Edric. I may be more understanding of your troubles than you give me credit for.”
Guilt washed over him to hear his friend speak of the past. Callum was right. Edric wasn’t giving him enough credit. He and Aiva had been together for so long, it was easy to forget that their relationship hadn’t been so perfectly orchestrated as it seemed at times. “I meant no offense,” he replied quietly, stepping closer to Callum in hopes of shielding their conversation from prying ears. “You were hunted by women for different reasons. At least the ladies you were faced with had some form of intelligence inside their heads. Have you listened to these women talk? They have no opinion of their own. Let me provide an example,” Edric pondered for a moment, nodding his head in agreement of his own thoughts. “What would your wife do if you were to tell her the sky was in fact red and not blue?”
“She would tell me I was a damned fool and drag me outside by my ears to prove me wrong,” Callum chuckled. “Why do you ask?”
“Exactly!” he exclaimed, careful not to raise his voice too loudly. “If I was to approach any of the young women within this room and express to them that the sky was red, she would politely agree with my nonsense and continue prattling on about exactly what shade of red it is, caring not about how foolish she sounded. They are mindless imbeciles who will say whatever they think I want to hear, simply to gain my affection. How can I possibly find a suitable wife when they behave in such a manner?”
The Myatheira Chronicles: Volume Three: Crown of Ice Page 9