by Adam Bishop
“I never thought I’d get to see the ocean again. I never thought I’d have my freedom either. You proved me wrong. The last person I called a friend told me not to hide from my past unless I wanted it to haunt me. So, who better to tell my story to than the person who saved my life?”
William walked back to the fire. For the first time, he revealed the story of his last night at sea.
***
It was a calm night. The water sat like a black sheet of glass along its surface. We were anchored on the edge of a large trench off the coast of Orum. Peter Sturum stood watch in the crow’s nest that night. He smoked more than any of the crew, and his pipe was never filled with tobacco, so when he said there was something in the water no one thought anything of it. One of the deckhands called out, "Man overboard!" I was leaning over the bow of the ship when I heard him. I spotted a body in the water. It was a woman. She was a few yards from the boat, treading water in place. One of the crew grabbed a life belt and threw it out for the woman to grab. She placed it over her head and took hold of the rope. The rope tightened as he pulled her in. We figured she was stuck on something below the surface, so two other men grabbed hold of the rope and pulled as well. Just then the rope became stiff. It pulled all three men to the edge of the ship with one fierce tug. At first I thought a shark was taking a chunk out of her. But then the rope pulled a second time, and it tore the skin off the hands of the men holding the other end. My father’s ship tilted on its side from the force. Whatever was on the other end of the line must have weighed over a thousand pounds. When the line went slack, the woman popped up from the surface. But this time she was much closer, and we realized it was no woman. I mean, she had the shape and everything. But her face wasn’t human. Her skin was rough like coral. Her eyes were black holes, devoid of life. Before anybody knew what was happening, a blinding light shot out from her mouth. Next came an ear-piercing scream, stunning everybody on board. I heard the beast from below lunge out of the water and take a chunk out of our ship with its long, monstrous teeth. It sounded like a mountain rising from the depths.
“Have you ever heard of an angler fish?” William asked Baldric.
Baldric shook his head, stunned by what Will had described thus far.
“An angler fish is a predator that lures its prey using a long filament attached to its head. I’ve heard of them before myself, but I never knew such a creature could grow big enough to feed on humans.”
The hull of our boat filled with water, causing the bow of the ship to slowly sink under the surface. I only truly saw the creature when it made its second attempt to sink our ship. Its teeth shocked me more than anything. They were twenty inches long, sprouting from its gums like a set of swords. It was the most disgusting thing I’d ever seen. Every inch was disfigured in some way. It was something out of a nightmare. Peter Sturum fell from the crow’s nest and was impaled through his back, left dangling from the creature’s jaws like a piece of stray meat. My father burst out of the captain’s cabin and immediately grabbed a harpoon. He speared the creature’s side, but it didn’t even seem to faze the beast. I must have struck the monster three more times before it made its way back under the surface. For a little while we thought it had left, but just as we got to fixing the boat, its monstrous jaws tore out of the water. My father was taken with it. The last thing I saw was his hands as they grasped its menacing teeth. He looked like a prisoner holding on to the iron bars of his cell as it sunk into the ocean. I screamed and dove in after him, but the fish had disappeared into the depths of the trench. As I swam back up, one of the masts crashed into the sea, clipping the side of my head and leaving me dazed. I woke up drifting on a few wooden planks. I don’t know how long I was out, but it must have been quite a long time because I had drifted all the way inland. I was floating along the River of Rams. Before I could even get out of the water, two soldiers spotted me and brought me to Havelmir. From then on I was in chains. At first they put me to work as a scullion. I tried to escape, and that’s how I ended up in the dungeons. Then I met you, and now here we are.
***
Baldric wasn’t sure how to respond. He had never been told a story quite like this before—at least not by someone who’d survived such chaos. All he could think of was the image Will had painted of the ominous angler fish. “I ... I'm sorry to hear that, Will. Losing your father, along with everyone else, all at once … I … I don’t know what to say.”
“I've never spoken of it since. But it feels better now that I have. Thank you for listening. Let’s not linger in the somber mood though. It’s stolen enough of my time already,” William took a second to rid his mind of that dreadful night before changing the subject. “So, let's hear this plan of yours. Where are we going to go from here?”
Baldric unsheathed the Elven sword from Rhan and laid it across his lap. It’s craftsmanship was stunning. Especially the hilt, which was decorated with ivory and gold inlays. “Do you know who this sword used to belong to?”
William shook his head. He then remembered his skepticism regarding Baldric hiding something earlier.
“This sword belonged to the Lord of Rhan. I found it in the throne room when you were looking for supplies. I had to pull it out of the chest of his headless body. The Braxi had removed his head and placed it atop his throne. It was a gruesome sight to behold. Countless mangled bodies were scattered across the floor. However, there was something peculiar about this particular display of death. I noticed several bloodstains were left on the floor, likely the result of someone dragging bodies out of the room. It was as if someone didn’t want them to be there. That’s when I thought back to the piles of burned corpses we saw on our way to Rhan. I think the Braxi burned all the bodies of their dead from the battle. I think they’re trying to hide any evidence of them being the ones behind the fall of Rhan. I mean, think about it. How many dead Elves did we see? Did you see a single Braxi soldier?”
Will was puzzled. Baldric’s assumption seemed ludicrous, and it made no sense to him. “Why would the Braxi hide their victory? It only proves how strong they are.”
“Yes. But the Elves are a dangerous enemy to have, and Rhan is only one of the five remaining Elven Kingdoms. If I were Dadro, I’d do the same thing. The Elves haven’t been north of Larin in nearly one hundred years. All of the Human Kingdoms will know of his victory. He’s using the segregation to his advantage, I’m telling you!”
Again, the more Baldric spoke, the more William found himself believing him. “So if the Elves didn’t know who attacked Rhan, they wouldn’t be able to make the next move? That’s what you’re saying?”
“Yes. Yes, Will. Exactly!”
“Alright. Let’s say you're right … what’s the point of having that sword then?”
That gleaming smile appeared on Baldric’s face once again. “I’m glad you asked, Will. I say we go to the Viridian Veil and tell the Elves what happened in Rhan. I’ll present them with this sword as a sign of respect and proof to back up our story.”
William realized that this was exactly what Baldric had been hiding from him. Once again, he found himself distressed by the insanity behind yet another one of Baldric’s far-fetched plans. “You must be mad! Do you really think the Elves will even speak to us? You don’t even know the Elves! They could just kill us for all you know!”
Baldric was humoured by William’s reaction. “You reacted the same way when I told you my plans to escape from the Braxi. Yet here you are, alive and well. Have some faith in me, my friend. Your life isn’t the only one at stake here.”
William still felt uneasy about the whole idea. “Yes, I’m alive ... we’re alive. But we took a risk. I don’t think it’s wise to gamble your life more than once a year, or at all! What do you know of the Elves? How can you be so sure they won’t kill us?”
“I know more than most people. I know the story behind this bay, how it got its name, and how Tullin the Brave saved many lives before he fell to his death where we're sitting now. I didn�
�t find that secret path by chance—I read about it. It wasn’t always there. The Elves dug it out after the devastating effects of Goron’s Fall, a massive earthquake that sent a quarter of Rhan’s Kingdom crashing into the sea below. Surprisingly, only one Elf died that day. He gave his life to save the lives of many. When the ground began to crack open, one brave Elf chose not to run away, but instead to run toward the aid of his kin. It’s said he saved the lives of two hundred Elves before he fell to his death. His name was Tullin Birchden, and the Bay he died in is now named after him in honour of his bravery. Tell me, Will. Do you read?”
William's expression had gone from worried to confused. “Read? No. Why ... what are you talking about?”
“Well I do. I read a lot. If you went to Havelmir right now and walked into my room in the back of the Maidens Pearl, do you know what you would find?”
“A drunk by the name of Barrel, happy to finally have a place to sleep.”
Baldric couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re a lot funnier as a free man, you know that? But no—although I wouldn’t be surprised to see that. You would find books. Quite a few of them, all of them about the Elves. Their history. Their lifestyle. Gods, values, interests, and so on. I’ve read them all, Will. Thousands of pages. Elves aren’t barbaric and greedy like the men who rule these lands. Their lives don’t revolve around power and riches like the Kings and Queens who have us all fooled. If we enter their woods without intention of violence, our lives wouldn’t be at risk. It’s all a myth.”
William slowly shook his head. He still wasn’t fully convinced. “Those are books. Books written by vagabonds who claim to know the Elves. I’m not risking my life because of some made-up stories about men and women I’ve never met.”
“You’ve never met them, sure. But they have met the Elves, and we haven’t. They were right about that secret path we took. What other choice do we have? We’ll get captured if we head north. Our heads will be stuck on pikes as punishment for desertion.”
“Yes, but there’s more than just Havelmir north of here. Many kingdoms stand across the lands of Cellagor.”
“You're right. There are many other Kingdoms, some of which have surely joined sides with King Dadro by now. He’s the first King in the history of man to be victorious against the Elves. If you don’t think the remaining houses are begging to join him, then you're crazier than I. Havelmir’s army has spread. Dadro’s eyes now see much further than just around his own walls. If we go north, we die.”
“What about Talfryn? My father always said they would never betray the Elves?”
Baldrics eyes grew wide. A pleasant grin grew on his face. “And here I thought you knew nothing of the families of Cellagor. What other surprises are you hiding?”
William smiled. He was glad to speak about something Baldric hadn’t already assumed he didn’t know. “I may have lived at sea my whole life, but I’m not completely oblivious to everything past the shore. My father knew Richard Arinfray. They were friends. Both of them shared a great love for fishing. He was one of the few dryfoot that my father respected.”
“Dryfoot?” Baldric inquired.
“People who live on land,” said William. “King Richard has been aboard my father’s ship. I don’t really remember him myself, but I’m sure he would recognize my face if he saw me.”
“Well, that’s truly interesting. But I fear your lack of knowledge regarding the Braxi only muddles your intentions. King Dadro despises Talfryn. He hates the fact that they still respect the Elves. If we were to travel there, we would find ourselves yet again among a Kingdom under siege.”
“The Braxi are going to war with Talfryn?” Will asked.
“Not that I know of. But it’s only a matter of time. Besides the Elves, Talfryn is the most hated Kingdom of the Braxi. Of all my days working in the Maidens Pearl, I’ve only heard words of disgust and hostility regarding King Arinfray and his army.”
“You can’t be certain. And even if you are right, it would be safer to travel there rather than take our chances with the Elves.”
“Talfryn is too close to Havelmir. They’re practically neighbours. Even if we tried to get there, the Braxi would spot us. There must be countless soldiers patrolling the lands, watching for Elves or anyone else passing through.”
William knew he only had two choices. He would have to join Baldric on his journey to the Viridian Veil or risk going off alone to travel the unfamiliar lands of Cellagor. Deep down he knew what choice he was going to make. At least this time he would be placing his trust in the hands of a friend rather than a stranger.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Feathers and Defiance
Darith rode across the rolling green fields of the southern Hurdell, wearing a quarter of his usual armour. The heavy thud from his draught horse's iron-soled hooves sent a staggering earthquake of a rumble across the land, scaring off most of the animals in his path.
It was early morning, and Darith was still drunk from the night before. He liked to drink, but he liked to kill more. Although he wasn’t currently dressed for battle, his presence was still intimidating enough that few would dare oppose him. He wore a dark leather brigandine along with a plain pair of breeches and jet-black leather boots, which were fit with steel toes in case any unlucky man fell at his feet. Despite his lack of armour, he wasn’t unarmed. He always carried his Greatsword. It was like an extension of his self, a third arm of sorts. His breakfast—a waterskin loaded with dark ale—hung off his horse’s saddle, swishing about from side to side as his horse swayed. “A hefty ale can always hold a man off till his next meal,” he often said.
The elevated Kingdom of Talfryn peeked out over the horizon as he closed in on his destination. The castle’s peak stretched higher and higher into the sky with every stride of his horse. Its placement atop The High Hill of Eagles gave it a monumental level of existence. He had never been to Talfryn—nor had he ever intended—but he could not refuse the request made by his King.
As he rode forth, he came to the base of the mighty hill and looked up at the high stone walls. They surrounded the Kingdom like a barricade of cliffs. Then, shortly after he’d begun his ascent up the steep green slope, he heard a high-pitched whistling coming from above. Five giant eagles leapt off of Talfryn’s mighty walls and began circling him. Each of the birds eyed him intently, as if ready to swoop down at any given moment for an early meal. They were much larger than any eagles he had ever seen, with a wingspan of fifteen or twenty feet. They could easily pluck him off his horse and rip him to shreds if they wanted to. He reached for his sword, realizing he could be moments away from death at the hands of their talons. But then a loud horn sounded, and through the heavy gusts of wind the eagles’ wings settled around him.
Eight soldiers emerged from the gate atop the hill and rode towards Darith. Their beautiful scaled armour shone in the sun, and hundreds of silver feathers covered them from shoulder to thigh. Their helmets were crafted like an eagle’s beak, curving just above the brow in a golden arch. Even their boots were pointed and golden, like that of a single curved talon. Aside from the Braxi, everyone believed that the soldiers of Talfryn had the most alluring armour in all of Cellagor. Darith found himself surrounded by these soldiers and beasts before he’d even been able to make it halfway up The High Hill of Eagles. He was eager to draw his sword—unfortunately, he was also under strict orders to refrain from confrontation.
“State your business for stepping foot on our land, traveller,” one of the Feathered Knights asked.
Darith eyed the armoured men. He spat on the ground in front of them. “I’ve yet to step foot on your land, churl. Are you speaking to my horse?”
The soldier gripped his lance and spoke. “Have you any other purpose than insult? Or shall I signal the eagles? They’ve yet to have their breakfast, and I’m sure a man of your size would fill their bellies.”
Darith felt his face burn with rage. He envisioned himself piercing his sword through the Feathered Knight’s c
hest, lifting him into the air and watching the life drain from his body. “I’ve come with word from King Dadro, ‘Slayer of the Elves.’ Now, take me to your King, bird boy.”
The Feathered Knights snickered. They turned their horses around and led him up the slope toward their Kingdom. He followed close behind, watching the eagles as they flew aloft, disappearing over the towering stone walls surrounding their home.
***
Darith loathed the idea of being in this filthy, bird-ridden town as he passed through the barbican of Talfryn. To his surprise, when he entered the city grounds all he saw was an ordinary slew of taverns and inns built along a high road. Every building was fitted with large stone-shaped bowls that extended out from the corners of all the roofs. The stone-bowled perches looked to be filled with straw, grass, and thin twigs. He then realized what their purpose was. They were perches for nests. He couldn’t even imagine how many eagles lived in this Kingdom, and he assumed that placing nesting bowls on the corner of every roof was a clever way to house all of the overgrown eagles.
He spotted thousands of nests. They rested on the corners of every house and wall in sight. Most families had two to three eagles living among them at a time, and it was easy to see that the beautiful birds were treated like equals in Talfryn. These perches had been built everywhere: along the high walls surrounding the city, at the corners of all the roofs in the market, and in all the trees throughout the kingdom. Countless more nests climbed up the walls of the castle, reaching all the way to the top of the central keep. Darith was shocked to see such labour spent on the likes of these wild creatures, yet what surprised him more was how clean and impressive the city was kept, despite what he’d been told. The market wasn’t unkempt and clustered with rotten food. The streets weren’t covered in bird shit and littered with rotting feathers. And the people weren’t dirty or dressed in rags. If anything, Talfryn looked cleaner than Havilmir. This disappointed Darith—but he wouldn’t let it hinder his hatred for the people of Talfryn. He knew they were foolish and weak compared to the Braxi.