A E Johnson

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by alice johnson


  taken by the cousin of Alder, the fey had adapted to

  change, often seen among woodlands and forests, the

  fey of Arktos and Volnot were desert dwellers. Red

  sand and rock dominated the lands, fresh green fields

  were used for the farming of sheep and cattle. In the

  south west was Volnot. The tribe of Volnot took his

  people there, his kingdom was named after him, the

  people of Cammbour had never stepped on the lands

  of Volnot or Arktos. The land was covered with fresh

  conifers, evergreen fir trees, their kingdom was built

  on shingle rock.

  The south west lands were the mighty lands of the

  Draco stretch. Domain of the dragons and only the

  dragons. They did not wish for power, especially from

  the man who had taken so much from them already.

  The boiling lands of Thrasia were taken by the dark

  fey. The dark fey were different to the fey of the north.

  Their skin was darker, but still as pure. The land was

  filled with the most ferocious beasts but the dark fey

  held mysteries on taming them.

  The land to the southeast was taken by man,

  Xencliff, a place of everlasting pleasure, sex was the

  oldest trade the world knew, and those of Xencliff

  blood were sure to exploit this. The fishing trade had

  made the kingdom grow to bursting. The few Romans

  who did survive were spat to the cliffs of Xencliff.

  The smallest of the kingdoms was that of the tiny

  folk of Cammbour, Bourellis in the North East. The

  order that man and fey had brought suited them, their

  purpose seemed to grow the day that their new kin

  came to their shrinking world. The two superpowers

  remained, Sonnin, taken by Alder and his tribe of two

  thousand, and Cronnin, taken by Artnou, and his four

  thousand followers.

  The Atlanti were given nothing. Shunned for their

  greed, the Atlanti formed a bond with those who were

  outcast with them. Their armies grew with the help of

  a creature as despicable as them, the gobgee. Their

  settlements remained scattered, the borders of Elmoor

  and Sonnin, parts of Thrasia and Cronnin and a small

  island in the north were all they were allowed.

  The ggelf’s remained a secret to the world around

  them, they wanted nothing but knowledge. The

  merrow did not care for power, territory or kingdoms,

  the waterside settlements were more than enough to

  keep them, all they wished for was privacy, and

  respect.

  Five hundred years passed, and the Atlanti

  remained volatile. Their numbers still grew in the

  towns and villages they had taken as their own.

  Cammbour remained a world where change was

  deemed as dangerous. The right to evolve had been

  removed from the people there.

  The fey and man settled side by side, they

  cohabited and soon became feyman. Settlements of

  the fey remained pure of blood, such as the mabeara,

  but the bloodline of man remained only with the last

  remaining Atlanti. As a result of their cohabiting,

  feyman had much longer lives. Whilst the fey could

  live to be three hundred, the feyman would live to the

  ripe age of two hundred. They healed quicker and

  they tended to be shorter than man.

  Cammbour had become frozen in time. The

  people were farmers, fishers, builders, tailors,

  butchers, blacksmiths, foresters, the ancient lands

  remained at the heart of the people. The world also

  held room for the gentler of people, the artists,

  musicians, engravers, alchemists, book binders,

  writers, and story tellers. The brutal careers also

  flourished, the soldiers, warriors and mercenaries

  would always be busy.

  As they years had passed, the Atlanti did not forget

  the other world, although it was becoming a place of

  distant myth, many still believed it existed. War again

  consumed their lands, but this time Sonnin was ready.

  With a war brewing the fey and man had to work fast

  to bring it to an end, but the Atlanti were strong, for

  nearly fifty years the deep valleys of Grenhilda rang

  with the sound of swords. Cries of terror spread

  throughout the lands. Blood spilt into the oceans and

  streams; one side had to give. The leader of the Atlanti

  made his proposal, Kaynum proposed a fight to end

  the wars, an army was chosen by each side, one

  thousand strong, the last army standing would win the

  world around them, but the fey were cunning in their

  knowledge of the world where they now resided.

  So many secrets surrounded their world, so many

  lies were waiting to be uncovered and the fey knew

  them all. A trap was set. Their army of a thousand

  Atlanti troops fell. Queen Grenhilda Oakenwood of

  Cronnin, ruler of Cammbour made a deal with death,

  to open the gates of Tataria and allow the Atlanti

  through, trapping them forever in the lands of the

  dead.

  In exchange, the gods ordered that every piece of

  knowledge of the world beyond Cammbour was

  destroyed. Memories were wiped; books were burned

  and buried in the merciless oceans. The world of

  Earth was lost to them. Not a single shred remained of

  the world they once knew, instead, they remained in

  their unspoilt parallel of Cammbour.

  Chapter One Finding Hope.

  ord looked to the treeline in front, her neat

  braid of black hair fell perfectly between the

  M shoulders of her armour, she squinted her

  aging eyes towards the trees, pinching her nose she

  could smell the stench of burnt wood, straw, and

  burning hair. Her slender frame did not hold her

  armour well, but she was not a fighter.

  Mord called out to her commander, “It’s not far

  now, sir!”

  Crunching gravel hurt their ears as the hooves of

  the horses hit the ground. The trees were slowly dying,

  ready to enter their winter slumber. A smell of

  stagnant leaves seemed to reach to them from the

  quiet woodland in front, the birds seemed silent as the

  small army passed.

  The commander was tired, he had seen many a

  war-torn land, his eyes were weary. A greying beard

  and protruding belly had seen him struggle of late.

  They were used to the pains in their heads from the

  smoke, having experienced it so many times. Their

  commander turned; he gave a satirical look to her.

  “I’m aware,” he deeply replied.

  Mord still did not know what path they would be

  taking. She called out to him, “Which way are we

  going?” They came towards a crossroad, and she

  could see it. A cloud of scattered black bellowed into

  the sky.

  “Farhope,” he replied, his mumbling voice was

  often hard to hear. The winter was quickening, the

  long journey had almost taken his voice. “It’s the next

  part of his plan, take the villages. The towns are next.”

  The commander awkwardly turned. His voice was

  hau
nting. “This will not be the last, this is only the

  beginning.”

  “Have we heard from the council?” Mord knew

  the word of the council was law.

  His masterful tone filled her commander as he

  replied, “Not since the last turn, we take this path to

  lessen our journey north.”

  She shook her head, looking down to the cold

  gravel she replied, “The king will be displeased,

  knowing the army moves this far north.” He gave a

  huff, knowing she was right, but not wanting to agree.

  “Kairne seems more bent on destruction than ever.” A

  smell caught her; the smell of smoke filled the bitter

  cold air. “Farhope is a village.” She could see the

  commanders slow blink, a descent into depression had

  caught him. “This will be the third village in just as

  many turns.”

  They entered the small, fenced village; they each

  alighted their horses, sounds of awkwardly clanking

  armour echoed. A vision of filthy mess lay in front of

  them. Arms, legs, and heads lie in the filthy trodden

  mud of the village rotting on the ground, the summer

  flies had returned for a feast. Dead wolves and horses

  lined the streets. Chickens and sheep were slaughtered

  within their paddocks. Burning homes still

  smouldered. The village stood silent with only a

  crackle of flames. The bodies were now a feast for the

  circling crows and ravens who followed the army.

  The air was thick with smoke. Mord made her way

  through the village, in search of hope. Her footsteps

  seemed to squelch as she stepped through, the

  uncomfortable thought remained with her, ‘it had not

  rained in a while there, it was not water she was

  treading.’

  Making her way through the death and chaos, she

  entered the only house left standing. A small, thatched

  cottage, a small holding to the side, lie in cinders.

  “I hear something!” she shouted. A familiar cry

  called out to her. She stepped over the rubble which

  lay in the doorway. The roof still smouldered. The

  structure of the building covered the floor. She heard

  a sound which she had missed for a long time, the

  sound of a baby’s cry, and oh what a sound it was.

  She ventured further in; a burnt cradle of hay lay

  beyond a small doorway. She stepped towards the

  baby’s cry. Crisp clean linen shrouded the tiny infant.

  To Mord, it was the most beautiful sign of hope. Mord

  gave a look of confusion towards the tiny infant in the

  dark smoke-filled room, softly she asked, “How did

  you get here?” Outside, the others began to gather, to

  see what she had found.

  A gasp was heard from the onlooking army as they

  watched her immerge.

  “Commander!” she called as she stepped from the

  ruins. She held the small bundle in her arms.

  Thundering towards her, the commander barged

  the onlooking soldiers out of the way, his heavy frame

  bowled them to the side, as he called, “Is it alive?”

  She lifted the bundle towards him, a smiling face

  of a baby glared back at him. “Very, sir,” she held a

  confused grin, “I don’t know how though,” she turned

  to see the ruined cottage, “the roof was collapsed

  around it, I don’t know how it survived,” she looked to

  her commander.

  His tone was soft, “Luck.” He asked with wonder,

  “Perhaps it was hidden in the rafters? Either way, we

  need to get it checked, make sure it’s healthy before

  the camp.” He lifted his arm and directed her to the

  field medic.

  Usually, the medics would consist of the Sharma’s

  from the temples, well trained in the art of nursing and

  medicine. They, however, were stuck with Ulthar, well

  versed in the art of medicine, his age spoke of a

  lifetime of war seen. His retirement had proven boring

  to him, he now tagged along with the search and

  rescue; in hope of finding some prospect of the wars

  ending. Long grey eyebrows stretched over his pale

  blue eyes. His long beard accounted for the years it

  had taken to grow it, like an old willow tree his face

  held knowledge, but his body bent under the weight of

  such knowledge. Stepping towards Ulthar, Mord

  seemed reluctant to hand the infant over. She knew

  Ulthar’s hands were somewhat weak, old fingers were

  like the knuckle of an oak tree.

  Ulthar saw Mord approach. “What’s this?” his

  withering eyes seemed to spark as he looked to the

  infant, “bring it to the cart,” he nodded slightly, “we

  can take a good look.”

  An old wooden cart served as a table, Mord placed

  the infant down. Slowly, Ulthar began to inspect. His

  long grey beard was soon grabbed by the baby who

  seemed to cling on for comfort. “Well done, soldier,”

  he said with a widening smile, “it’s a girl.” Ulthar

  looked back and began to check for cuts, bruises, and

  any form of injury. The infant was perfect. Not a

  blemish, not a single sign of even being in the village

  when the Atlanti attacked. Checking the infants back

  he suddenly stepped back with a gasp. His old

  croaking voice called out, “Commander!”

  Mord felt her stomach twist. Her eyes widened. “Is

  something the matter?”

  Ulthar had his brows pulled down, he seemed

  confused as he shook his head. The commander came

  thundering over. “Look,” Ulthar softly said, he turned

  the infant onto her front. On the back of the child her

  shoulder bones were protruding. A strange image to

  see.

  “Is it torb?” asked the commander, he looked to

  Ulthar, baffled.

  His eyes remained fixed on the child. “Torb’s are

  born with wings,” Ulthar replied, he nodded and held

  a strange look of bewilderment, “but I understand

  your meaning. It’s strange,” he said with a wonderous

  tone. “The skin of this child is fey, you can tell, her

  ears have a point to the tip, like mine,” he held a small

  candle towards her skin, the skin seemed almost

  translucent, “she has fey in her, but I don’t understand

  why she would have those.”

  Mord stepped forward, nervously she asked, “But

  the child is well?”

  With a soft smile Ulthar looked to the worried

  eyes of Mord. “She will live,” he tried to reassure her,

  “we will be passing a war camp soon, in the north,

  close to Bourellis, we can take her there.”

  Her face dropped to a look of sadness. The

  commander soon noticed this; he did not take kindly

  to shows of weakness.

  “It’s a fucking baby!” he loudly said, “don’t look so

  bloody upset, do you plan on taking her on the road

  with you, Mord?”

  “No, sir,” she immediately replied. Her voice

  became soft, “apologies, I simply think I’ve had too

  much time on the road.”

  “Haven’t we all,” he abruptly replied. He came


  close to her ear as he grumbled, “welcome to war.”

  As she watched her commander storm back

  towards the carnage of the village, Mord shouted, “I

  finally found what I came for!” The commander

  turned, Mord softly said, “Hope. Maybe, it’s my time

  to hand in my papers?”

  The infant remained in Mord’s arms as they

  journeyed towards the northern camps. The wet snow

  hissed as it settled on the ground, the winter was

  mocking them. Mord spoke to the child on their

  journey, each time she did the infant seemed to listen.

  She longed to be a mother, but age was no longer on

  her side. She had seen a world torn through war; she

  would never be willing to bring a child into that.

  Coming towards the northern pass, the infant’s

  new home was finally in sight. The stone bunker

  buildings of the war camps stood uniform on the dull

  cobbled paths. A misty green woodland to the north of

  them sheltered the camp from the wind and harsh

  weather. To the side of each building, a wooden staff

  hut sat, the crude and often draftee buildings were a

  stark reminder of what the Atlanti were doing to their

  world.

  “I don’t like it here,” mumbled Mord as she trailed

  along at the back.

  The commander turned, “It is the best place for

  her,” his orders were clear. The commander still had

  some compassion. “Mord, regardless of what you

  choose to do, the child would be better off following

  her own path, that begins here.”

  Mord looked down, she hated the camps. “I know,

  I still don’t like it here though.”

  “If it makes you feel better, Bourellis is not far

  north from here,” he could see Mord was struggling.

  “For ten years I have known you, Mord, in that time

  all you have searched for is hope,” the commander

  jumped from his horse; his age was showing as his

  belly almost pulled him to the ground. “The pooka

  gather in these woods regularly, that’s why hunting is

  banned this far north,” he explained, “besides, it isn’t

  your choice.” He took the infant from Mord, she

  willingly passed the infant over, knowing her chances

  were greater in the care of the mystical pooka.

  The day the child arrived at the camp; everything

  began to change. As the small girl with the strange

 

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