A Sea of Cinders

by Adam Bishop

  William and Gus quickly caught up with Faron and followed him toward the Elven Kingdom.

  ***

  Thinduill was pacing back and forth in the throne room. At first, he didn’t take notice of his guests. But their presence soon broke his stride.

  “Faron, our swift savior!” Thinduill said, trying to seem attentive. “You saved countless innocent lives my friend. Despite our remaining dilemmas we shall celebrate your accomplishment tonight … I see you’ve brought a guest.”

  Gus happily approached the Elven Lord before Faron could respond. “You must be the famous Thinduill, Lord of the Elves. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sire,” Gus said holding his hand out in greeting.

  Thinduill lingered for a moment, caught off guard by Gus’ forward personality. “And you as well,” he replied, shaking the old man’s hand. “A lively one, you are. However, sire is a title for that of a tyrant. Thinduill alone will suffice.”

  “Duly noted Your Gra—uh, I mean, Thinduill,” Gus replied.

  “Gus was the last known person to speak with Arnion,” Faron confirmed as he walked toward them. “He claims to have met him in a tavern north of Rhan.”

  “You … you spoke with Arnion?” Thinduill asked. His eyes widened. “Where did this meeting take place?” he asked with sudden urgency.

  “Kent. It’s a small town near Havelmir. Few have heard of it,” Gus replied, with no intention of ending his banter. “It’s a nice enough town. Good people, better food. It’s a shame, really, I meant to recommend the kidney pie to your man, Arnion. But then he upped and disappeared before I got the chance to tell him. The cook is just a young lad, but he’s very particular about his ingredients. Funny thing, he always insists on making bread in the shape of a wolf. No one knows why, but it tastes bloody good if you ask me.”

  Thinduill had never met anyone quite like Gus before. And although he found his talkative nature to be rather overwhelming, part of him couldn’t help but favor the old chap. “Yes, yes. That’s all well and good. But Arnion, what did you two talk about?” he asked.

  “Well, at first he just wanted to know how to get to Havelmir, so I told him the way. After that, we got to talking and it turned out we both knew my good friend William here,” Gus said, patting William on the shoulder. “Then the conversation took on a more serious tone. He told me it was a matter of life and death, and that if I helped him, he would tell me where I could find Will. He asked me if I knew any secret routes into the castle of Havelmir. I told him of an underground passage I had come across. Before I knew it, he was speaking of a reward and Elves and traveling to Tar … it all happened in a blur, if I’m being honest. After he left, I finished my drink and rode to the lake pools he spoke of. That’s where I met Faron, and now here I am! And might I say, this is by far the most beautiful Kingdom I’ve ever laid eyes on. A true gem youse have here. Arnion said you’d pay me for my help, but I’d say the beauty in this place is payment enough … After all, I’m no greedy beggar.”

  “You’re a man of many words,” Thinduill replied. “It’s a good thing those words seem to come from the heart. You may stay here for the time being. And such reward as promised will not be ignored.”

  “Thank you, Lord Thinduill,” Gus said with a bow. “Your generosity is that of a true leader. I’ve only ever read stories of men as noble as you.”

  Thinduill bowed in response before addressing the three of them. “I fear … Arnion’s return is doubtful. I say this with a heavy heart, but he was likely killed or taken prisoner. There’s little we can do for him at this time. He knew the risks of his actions—”

  “I should at least go look for him!” Faron interrupted. “I would only need a week or two. His decision to leave may have been fueled by anger, but the boy has a good heart … He doesn’t deserve to die alone.”

  Thinduill hung his head in regret. “I’m sorry my friend, but there are more pressing matters at hand. We haven’t the time. Temperbailen is an impenetrable fortress, and a rescue mission would only lead to more deaths. I won’t allow the Braxi to take any more Elven lives. No, instead we must travel to Leof Ealdwin and hold counsel with King Orrinelmborn immediately. War is upon us once again. I will not stand idly by as it nears our walls. We must retrieve the Book of No Quarter before Dadro learns of its whereabouts. If a foolish, greed-fueled king such as himself came into possession of that power, I fear life as we know it could perish in the light of a single day. I will leave with the small fleet Orrinelmborn sent here on the morrow. Faron, I cannot think of a better companion for this quest. You, Elia, and one more of your choosing will join us. I can’t take any chances. Too much is at risk.”

  “I would be honoured to accompany you, my lord,” Faron bowed.

  “And William, I trust you and Baldric won’t deny a mission of such importance?” said Thinduill.

  William nodded. “We’ve come this far. What’s another hundred miles or so. Plus, I have a feeling Baldric would never forgive me if I chose to stay behind.”

  “Well, if Will’s going, so am I,” Gus said in a stubborn tone.

  Thinduill looked a little bemused by this forward request. “I understand you just travelled a great distance to see William, but his ties to this endeavour don’t involve you.”

  “I may not look as strong as I did in my heyday, but I’m no coward. And I’d do anything for a friend. It sounds like you have a lot on your plate as is, and you can’t be expected to look out for this lad night and day. An extra set of eyes couldn’t hurt.”

  Thinduill eyed Gus for a moment before turning to William. “Well, what do you think? Is your friend Gus here up to the task of coming with us?”

  William nodded without hesitation.

  “Very well. All of us will go then. Be at the docks for sunrise,” Thinduill concluded.

  “But my lord. Who will look after the Kingdom in your stead?” Faron asked.

  “Galdrinor has outnumbered my days by three lifetimes. He is more than capable of looking after the forest of the Veil while I’m gone. And with Avolin at his side, I doubt he’ll have much to worry about. I can’t think of a better advisor myself. Now, ready your things. Make sure to bring all you need. There’s no knowing how long it’ll be before we return.

  ***

  William and Gus stood frozen in place. They couldn’t believe what was happening. The fading footsteps of Lord Thinduill and Faron mocked them as they pondered their fate.

  “Did you ever think our first moments together out of the dungeons would take place in an Elven throne room?” Gus asked.

  William laughed and shook his head. “No, my friend. I never did.”

  Gus chuckled, humoured with himself. “Whaddya say we get that drink I promised ya, eh? The night’s young yet. And I’m sure this place has a better tavern than anything Havelmir ever had to offer.”

  “I’ve been looking forward to that since our chapter in the dark,” William replied. “Follow me, and ready yourself for the most impressive alehouse you’ve ever seen. Oh, and if you think Havelmir had beautiful women, wait until you see these Elven women. You’ll never be able to look at a mortal gal the same way again.”

  A smile grew on Gus’ face. “I’ve seen my fair share of beautiful women, laddie. If you can somehow top them, I’ll be buyin’ you more than one drink tonight.”

  “Well, I hope you brought enough coin with you then,” William replied, trying to hide his mirthful grin. “We can meet with Baldric and Elia on the way there. I’m sure they’d love to meet you.”

  “And I them,” Gus replied. “I still haven’t heard the story of William and Baldric. The two prisoners who escaped from the Braxi and travelled across the land all the way to an Elven Kingdom! Sounds like a thrilling tale, does it not?”

  William nodded without realizing. “Oh, don’t you worry. Baldric loves his stories. Especially that one in recent days. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to tell you, from the first word to the last.”

  EPILOGUE

  Du
sk can be seen in two ways.

  The first, is simply as the end of a day. The end of our sunlight. A time when all is still. Where all work is put to rest and the families of towns and kingdoms retreat indoors. A time for quiet, a time for calm, a time when the stress of the day is silenced by slumber … dusk is a fleeting moment, whereupon time is lost in darkness altogether.

  But for some, dusk is also a beginning. The beginning of the night, the beginning of the cool breeze, the beginning of a courtship between secret lovers. It’s the time where long hours of work pay off with drinks between friends. The time for music and laughter to fill the air with life, while those who lurk in the shadows are given a chance to take it. It’s a time for pleasure and pain—which is why some might argue the beginning trumps the end.

  No matter one’s preference, the Viridian Veil was always most beautiful at dusk. The dark blueish-green of the trees grew exquisite during the twilight hour, creating a haze of transparent ocean rays. The forest was filled with the weightless illusion of a shadowed sea … and within those shadows, a set of dead eyes spied on the kingdom.

  Although Faron was no longer guarding the Veil’s primary entrance, a great many Elves hid in the trees, watching and listening for any intruder who dared enter their wood. Yet, despite their best efforts, a cloaked knave managed to slither into their home undetected. He favored dusk, for it allowed him to sit hidden under the cover of a large fern. His blackened teeth gripped the end of a small wooden pipe, but he knew better than to light the foul-smelling herb. It would surely reveal his trespass.

  Despite the passing hours, he managed to stay still as a stone. He was like a corpse, hardly blinking or breathing, watching the Elven Kingdom through the eyes of a man who had forgotten what it meant to be human long ago.

  He had come of his own accord. There was nothing specific he was looking for—but when he saw two humans freely walking about the Elven Kingdom, a vile smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.

  “Well then,” Vagrin hushed to himself. Looks like my relationship with King Dadro may last a little longer than I anticipated. The cloaked man did his best to suppress a snicker. I may not know you, he thought, eyeing the short, curly-haired mortal. But Gus, what business do you have with the Elves?

  ***

  They found Baldric in the Fallen Leaf, where he sat with a beer in one hand and his heart in the other. William knew he would be here, especially after they’d not found him in either the archery yard or the Willow Gardens. Although there were many other ale houses in the Veil, this was the only one where Elia performed. And to their pleasant surprise, they were presented with the sight of young love. It was clear enough for a blind man to see.

  “If the friend you speak of is that blond-haired fella with the redhead, I’d say he has his work cut out for him.”

  William felt a smile grow on his face and, without realizing, he nodded. “Oh, that’s him alright. Though I doubt he’s aware of the work you speak of. Baldric’s a … well, he’s … you’ll see.”

  Gus admired the stunning craftsmanship of the tavern as they approached Baldric. The first thing that caught his eye was the high, dome-like ceiling that ensconced the tavern. It was painted with an array of colourful artworks, which hovered above like a mirror, depicting past celebrations. He had never seen such care put into the construction of a tavern before. Every inch of wood curved and flowed with the skillful designs of the patient artists who put them there. Flowerbeds grew in every corner of the room. Wide windows welcomed a cool breeze to every guest, and each table came laden with fresh parchment and ink for those who were willing to write songs. It was an oddity of pure joy and reverence, which was foreign to him.

  “Ah! William … and his friend?” Baldric said, arching an eyebrow.

  Will slung his arm around Gus’ shoulder. “Baldric, I’d like you to meet Gus! The first dryfoot I considered a friend … and the one responsible for my sanity after imprisonment.”

  “If you think you’re sane, you’re sorely mistaken, my friend. I mean, you trusted me with your life, and we had only just met!” Baldric chuckled to himself. He then turned to Gus, stood up, and gave him a welcoming embrace. He had known who it was halfway into William’s introduction, though he couldn’t pass up the obvious quip that had just presented itself. “I never thought I’d have the honour of meeting you!” Baldric exclaimed. “If it weren’t for you, I fear our curly-haired friend here would be dead. I thank you for showing him the kindness that resides in the hearts of us dryfoot, as he would say.”

  Gus accepted the warm welcome with the casualty of an old friend. He immediately felt that he could trust Baldric, and he understood how William had come to a similar conclusion. “I may be decades older than you, Will. And I may have met far more people, too. But let me tell you something, your friend here is one of a kind. Friends with honest hearts and loyal souls only come around a handful of times in life. Being that you’ve already met me, I’d say you’re the luckiest fishermen to ever set foot in Cellagor.”

  “With an impression like that, I might have to reconsider my take on you altogether,” Elia said, shooting Baldric a playful smirk.

  “And that you should, my lady,” Gus replied, scoring much respect from Baldric and Elia. “May your beauty brighten the mood of all those you meet, as it has mine,” he added as he took Elia’s hand in his and kissed it.

  Elia was undeniably beautiful. Her auburn hair flowed over her left shoulder like a crimson waterfall. Her golden-green eyes laughed in the flickering firelight like a set of darting cat’s eyes. Even in a sitting position, her curves rivalled that of a perfect statue. She was wicked without word or gaze, and stunning regardless of effort or attire.

  Baldric did his best to refrain from looking at her cleavage. Although, he found it rather hard, mainly due to the taunting unbuttoned top of her blouse, which was further accentuated by the leather belt fastened around her hourglass waist.

  “Each day with you has been the brightest I’ve ever known,” Baldric said.

  Shite, too soon, too soon, he thought, immediately wanting to call back his hasty, yet honest words.

  Elia, however, found Baldric and his statement to be cute. It was just his rash heart speaking the truth, she knew that. The Elves had always found mortals weak when it came to love. That’s not to say the Elves didn’t love as well—if anything their love ran deeper than any mortal mind could ever hope to imagine. It had more to do with their eagerness to find love. Since humans were cursed with a shorter life span, it was almost as if they desperately clung to the idea of love, chasing it when it wasn’t there, and sometimes even convincing themselves they had found it. In short, the Elves came to refer to such behaviour as having a rash heart.

  “And here I thought our time was the brightest,” Will teased, breaking the awkward silence. “I guess I should have known better.”

  Baldric felt his face flush with embarrassment. However, this feeling quickly passed as the table erupted in laughter.

  The night breezed by with equal parts laughter and drink. As expected, Gus fit in like a friend whose company was long overdue. Baldric continued smiling at every word that left Elia’s mouth.

  And just as William had predicted, Baldric was more than happy to tell the story of their journey to the Elven Kingdom. From the fires of Rhan to the Veil itself—he didn’t leave out a single detail. By now William was convinced Baldric had been rehearsing the lines in his head. He had heard him tell the story four times now. Yet, every time he told it, a new tone, or word, or poetic description had been added. And somehow, Baldric always managed to grasp his attention.

  “As much as I don’t want to admit it,” William paused, already regretting what he was about to say. “You’re a damn fine storyteller.”

  Baldric nodded and bowed in the way of a theatre performer. “Well thank you, Will. But I prefer the title of Talespinner, if you don’t mind.”

  William narrowed his eyes and shook his head. He wasn’t alone
, as Elia shared his expression of equal parts humour and annoyance.

  Still captivated by Baldric’s story, Gus slowly raised his glass in a toast. “To the bravery of the finest young lads I know, and the vast amount of dumb luck that brought them here today!”

  “A fitting toast for a pair of mortals who don’t even know how to hold a sword,” Elia said with a taunting smirk. “But I must admit, I’m thankful for your dumb luck as well.” Elia’s comment sent Baldric’s heart skipping several beats. He noticed she was looking at him as she spoke, “Since we’re all here, and we all know the story of these two lucky boys, I can’t think of a better time to share my song.”

  “You wrote a song about us?” Baldric asked with great intrigue.

  “I did,” Elia replied. Her smile was sweeter than the setting sun. “Fill your cups, as it’s a little longer than your average mortal piece.”

  Elia stood and made her way over to the raised stage in the back of the room. In the short time it took her to get there, she stole the gaze of almost everyone in the Fallen Leaf. Her instrument of choice was a beautiful Elven lyre. It’s craftsmanship alone set the bar for excellence—as an Elf, such a task was just another day in the life. She gently plucked at the seven strings to make sure it’s tuning was to her liking. After a brief adjustment, she nodded to herself and set her fingers in place.

  The few conversations that were still going on quickly fell silent, and a melody meant for dusk filled the void:

  Unknown and unsewn from the fabric of rule, enforced by a king they managed to fool.

  From the ashes they rose, slow, stiff and dry, maimed by the horror that lingered close by.

  Flaked remains of those lost but never found, a crowded grave littered the forest ground.

  A crooked step, an arid grin, with empty cups their freedom lingered from within.

  The stream is nearing evermore, an endless basin, for their lives they can’t ignore.

  A sea of cinders, none should look upon.

  A sea of cinders, the weeping bed of Rhan.