Revenge Song

by C. K. Rieke

  “Spread out,” Burr said. “You think they saw us? Whatever it— they are.”

  “No,” Roren said. “Stay together, it’s too dark.”

  A bright purple light burst from Lilaci, and both her hands erupted in violet flames. She noticed Burr look over at her in excitement, and she saw his teeth glow in the light of the Sanzoral.

  “That’s what I want to see,” he said.

  The three of them stood there in the pouring rains, with lightning zipping through the sky, and booming thunder shaking the world around them as the light danced towards them— their swords held firmly in their hands, eager with anticipation. The light of the Sanzoral glowing from Lilaci like a beacon in the bleakness of a moonless night.

  “Whatever comes,” Lilaci said. “They know not who they face.”

  “Let them come,” Burr said.

  They watched as the lights bobbed and moved from side to side slowly as they grew bigger and brighter as they approached. In the deluge of rain and with the storm’s power intensifying, Lilaci watched as the bright white lights started to illuminate the water below them, and with a puzzled feeling, she lowered her sword.

  “What’re you doing, girl?” Burr said, firmly holding his sword’s hilt with two tight fists.

  “Lilaci,” Roren said. “What is it?”

  “Don’t you see?” she said.

  Roren and Burr both squinted their eyes to try to see what Lilaci was seeing. In the pouring rains they made out no shape of men, or beast, but small objects gliding towards them, all covered in a brilliant glow.

  “What are they?” Roren asked. The object continued floating towards them, unwavering. They were but a mere ten paces in front of them. Lilaci felt as if she was in a trance staring into the beautiful lights, and they created a warm sensation in her stomach, easing her hunger pangs. She didn’t even notice that she’d dropped her sword fully to her side, and all her defenses had been dropped.

  Lilaci thought to look at her two companions, but the allure of the lights was overwhelming. She forgot all about everything that roamed through her mind constantly. She forgot about any hunger or thirst, she forgot about the gods, Veranor, the dragons, yet— she could still feel Kera’s spirit in her mind.

  As the lights grew to an almost overwhelming glow, one floated up before Lilaci’s eyes, and she had to squint at the brightness of the blinding darkness around. The glow of her Sanzoral had extinguished. The light continued up to right in front of her face, and then, just as it was about to touch the tip of her nose, it turned. The light circled around to her right ear, skimming the short hairs behind it, and sending a shiver up from her shoulder, up through her neck, and into a sharp tingle in the back of her head. As the light continued roaming around her neck and body, she saw other lights floating in place before her.

  “Wh—” she whispered in a voice soft like velvet, “What are you?”

  The light appeared back into her view from the left side of her head, and she finally began to see the shape of the body that housed the glowing light. It wasn’t large, the size of a newborn kitten, but slender. It seemed to have arms and legs like a human, but its torso and back were elongated, like it was pulled thin at both ends. At the top of its back, housed between its bony shoulder blades were a set of four wings, fluttering like bird, no, not a bird’s wings. More like a bat’s.

  “What do you want? Why have you come?” she asked, as the light floated before her. She then saw behind the glow were a set of eyes on the figure as its wings flapped behind. Its eyes were dark, black orbs that were three time’s larger than a man’s compared to his face. Two eyes of black that held a single, small white spot that was the reflection of the white glow that danced around it like a mist. The figure did not respond but floating again over to her right ear, which Lilaci didn’t resist, as she still had the warm, fuzzy feeling inside of her, like she could fall into her dreams at any moment.

  The light hovered next to her, and she listened intently as a voice appeared, a voice like cotton rolling down soft, bare skin. It said, “You’ve traveled far and long. Many days you’ve walked.” She continued to listen as the figure spoke in such a beautiful woman’s voice. “Three things I will tell you, listen you will, as they lie ahead, although you may not see them for yourself.”

  Lilaci didn’t reply, but only stood still, struggling to stay on her feet, as the urge to fall into a deep sleep drifted through her. The figure and its warm white light went behind her hear and floated over to her other ear. “The first whisper I bring that of what you seek, a soul as fragile as she is strong. She will not continue her walk or fill her lungs with air much longer without you, there is no other that can protect her as you can. You must hurry, haste is needed in this matter. Do you wish to hear another?”

  Lilaci, without hesitation, nodded. “There is one after you, not as of yet, but soon, one with the darkest of souls, and the wrath of bloodlust. One that doesn’t hunt for the kill, one that thrives on pain, and torment, against this you cannot win by yourself. You will need to find another way to defeat this darkness. If you try alone, your body and soul will wash away to the sands. You must trust in another, another from your past. Do you wish to hear the last?”

  She hesitated briefly then, “Why have you come? Why are you doing this?”

  “I do not answer questions, I only bring tidings. But know this sandwalker, tidings I bring, and with this knowledge does come at a cost. A cost to pay, small or large, depending on the value it holds to you. But this last saying may be the most important. What say you? Do you wish to hear?”

  “Does it concern Kera?” Lilaci asked. The figure went before her, floating just before her eyes, its black eyes beady and curious.

  “All things to you in this life concern the foretold girl. Although I cannot say how much this saying pertains to her, all things lead to her, or through her now.”

  “Tell me,” Lilaci said. “Tell me what I need to know about Kera.”

  The figure danced over to her ear and whispered in a soft, delicate voice. “All is not as it appears. There are some that appear to walk in the light of the sun yet prefer the shadow. While there are those that are stuck in the darkness but will someday walk under the sun’s warm rays. All things are not as they seem. Through time, you will see. Keep your eyes open, and your heart guarded. You will see. One will try to take her from you. You must stop them, she is only safe with you. This is not an easy path you walk Lilaci the Lazarine, Bearer of the Sanzoral. You and you alone have been entrusted to keep the Dragon’s Breath safe from harm.”

  “What do you mean? Who walks in the light? And who in the darkness?”

  The light floated past her quickly, flying behind, and Lilaci looked forward to see the remaining dozens of light fly towards her quickly. The light overwhelmed her, and she had to close her eyes, and she felt many of them fly past her, whizzing past her ears, neck and shoulders. As she opened her eyes she turned behind her to the collection of lights flying at a great speed off into the desert, and they were already well out of reach. The warm feeling inside of Lilaci quickly retreated, and the cold, damp sensation returned like a pale of cold water on the back. The clouds overhead passed, revealing a slight sliver of moonlight back to the sands, and Lilaci looked over to see Burr and Roren standing with their shoulders relaxed, and both of their mouths both hung slightly ajar.

  “Garen Pixies,” Burr said in a voice with disbelief.

  “Pixies?” Lilaci asked.

  “Garen Pixies,” he said.

  “What were they? What did they do?” Lilaci asked Burr, still with a stunned expression on his face. “Burr, what were those?”

  “I haven’t heard a whisper of them since the days of Serpentine Wars. They’re cursed.” His eye shot over to Lilaci, it was wide, and his pupil was as small as a pinprick. “They’re cursed. And now . . . So are you.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Her feet bruised and callused couldn’t deter her. She ran swiftly, and her le
gs carried her quickly. After such a long walk, filled with hunger and thirst, she’d finally reached the end of the desert, and before her was the last home of the last dragon. Here, she hoped to find answers. Kera ran with open arms to the base of the mountain, thin blades of grass muffling her footsteps up the rocks.

  “We’re here, we made it!” She looked back with an eager grin, Fewn stood back behind her with her arms crossed at her chest. Her long black hair whipped behind her in the strong winds, her pale face held a withdrawn pleasure. Kera could tell she was pleased they’d made it to their destination as well, even if she tried not to show it.

  “Yes, we made it.”

  Kera ran up to the sheer cliff walls and wrapped her arms out wide around it. She closed her eyes tightly and smiled.

  “Never seen anyone so excited to see a rock before,” Fewn said further down the rocks, not moving.

  “Why do you have to be like that all the time? We made it here finally. It’s okay to show a little excitement,” Kera said, still holding onto the mountain like a sacred tree.

  “Sure, it’s great,” Fewn said. “But honestly, right now, I’m more excited to see what’s on the other side of it.”

  Kera let go of the rocky wall and turned back to Fewn with a confused expression. “The other side?”

  “Come,” Fewn said, and beckoned her to follow with a wave of her hand. Kera eagerly ran down the rocks to follow.

  They curved around the wide base of the mountain, it took a full twenty minutes. Looking up, Kera saw the mountain tower above, carved with the full figure of the dragon wrapping around its entirety. She never imagined man could create such a thing. “It must have taken them hundreds of years to carve out such a thing in the mountain. How’d they even get up high enough to do that?” she asked, partly asking Fewn, and partly only speaking aloud.

  “Who said men made it?”

  “Huh?” Kera asked.

  “Ah,” Fewn said with a pleasant smile. “There it is.”

  Below them was a beach with a soft looking, wet sand being washed over with as much water as the eyes could see. Tall blades of green grass grew on the outskirts of the beach and a seemingly infinite about of shells lay on the sands, their light shimmering in a thousand different colors from the sun’s light. The sea glittered in a brilliant white flickering reflection.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Kera said. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “Let’s go down to it,” Fewn said, walking ahead. “I’m absolutely dying for a bath.”

  “That’s what you were so excited for? A wash?”

  Fewn stopped and looked squarely into Kera’s eyes with a playful smile. “Can you honestly tell me you aren't excited to wash the sand from your skin? You don’t want to feel your hair clean again? You don’t want clothes that don’t scratch?”

  Kera’s face turned to a wide smile full of white teeth. “I don’t remember the last time I’ve had that. I’ve forgotten what it’s like.”

  “I’ll race ya,” Fewn said. “Last one down there is a hermit’s rotten breath.” Fewn turned and began to run down to the beach, dropping her pack behind her on the rocks, and she removed the wooden pick from her hair, letting it down for the first time that Kera had seen like that. Kera ran after her. As they approached the water, Fewn let her shirt fall to the sand, and she fumbled to remove her boots, but once she did, she loosened her belt and pants and jumped into the water as nude as the day she was born. Kera did the same.

  The water felt cool on Kera’s skin, and she plunged herself eagerly into the flowing ebb of the sea. She felt the waves crash over her as she was submerged in the cool water. In her short life, she’d never felt the sensation of the seawater as it caressed every part of her body. Sure she’d enjoyed pools of water in caves, but mostly she’d washed from pales of water collected from sacred sources scattered around the vast deserts. Kera never imagined the sea was like this— so powerful, so vast.

  Lifting her head from the water, her wet black hair fell in front of her eyes, which she pushed back with her fingers. She felt the salt deposits on her lips and at the corners of her mouth, and she began to spit it out as she scraped it off with her tongue. Under the bright sun, she felt her thirst return.

  She looked over at Fewn to her right, brushing her long hair into the water, running her fingers through it from the base of her neck down. Then she sank her head under the waves. Kera felt the soft sand squish between her toes, and she even felt a small creature scuttle over her foot, which made her wince and run back to shore. Most of the time on the dry sands, if something came close to your foot, you had good reason to be worried. However, the sea and its inhabitants were unfamiliar to her. On hot sand once again, this time barefoot, she welcomed the heat of the sun on her face and skin. She sat at the point where the seawater met the sand and dug her toes deep into the dark sand. Fewn rose and walked over to her, sitting down next to her with a dull thud.

  “What do you think?” she asked. “Feels nice to be free of all that sand? Don’t you feel lighter?”

  Kera nodded.

  “You forget about all the places it can go until you’re free of it,” Fewn said, and began rubbing her ankle. “It’s amazing how you get used to the constant rashes.”

  “Why don’t people live out here?” Kera asked. “Why live in the cities on the Great Oasi? It's so beautiful out here.”

  “You know why.”

  “I guess I do,” Kera said.

  “You see it?” Fewn asked, looking to sea, southeast. “It’s faint, but on a clear day like this, you can vaguely see it out there.” Kera looked at Fewn glaring out at the sea then. Her skin seemed that much paler to be clear of the gritty sand. Her long, sleek black hair fell flat against her cheeks and down before her chest, her widow’s peak pulled down slightly above her eye line. She saw the deep scar on chin, perhaps from a blade, or a fight in her past. Her dark eyes stared at the sea with an expression Kera hadn’t seen on her before. It was almost as if she was afraid.

  Kera looked out in the direction she was looking. Far out was a misty shape, barely visible and hard to spot unless you were looking for it. “Yes, I see it.”

  “You think they’re there now?” Fewn asked, her voice sounded weak.

  Kera stared long and hard at the misty island looming in the distance, and the sea sent its waters rushing past them. “Yes . . . At least most of them. But they don’t see us here, they don’t expect us to get this close.”

  Fewn looked down at Kera sitting to her left. “Why do you say that? How do you know?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Just a guess . . . I guess.”

  They sat there in silence then, for the better part of an hour. Listening to the roar of the waves in the distance, feeling the wet sand squish between their fingers and toes. The felt the salty air blow through their hair. And they watched the island loom out there, ominous and eerie. The island of Arralyn was not a place visited by mere men and women, and neither Kera nor Fewn wished to ever see the place any closer than they did at that moment.

  Once their hair was almost completely dry again from the warm sun and sea-breeze, Fewn finally rose with a sigh and her hands on her knees. “Ready?”

  Kera looked up at her unsure of what she meant. “Ready for what? What do we do now?”

  “You want answers, don’t you?”

  Kera nodded.

  “Well, up there somewhere is that box, with its secret contents,” Fewn said, and then looked up at the sky-reaching mountain behind them. On its backside facing the sea, the dragon’s wings wrapped fully around it, and its twisted, headless neck, wrapped to the side, as if the missing head would’ve turned to face directly at the island of the gods. “It’s getting up there that’s going to be the tricky part.”

  “What do you expect us to do? Surely you don’t think climbing up that is an option,” Kera said.

  “Well, you’re welcome to sit here by the sea and relax, but one of
us needs to go up there. You’ll be all alone down here if you decide to stay.”

  “I’d rather stay down here than try to climb that,” Kera said, scanning the cliff’s face. “I don’t even see how one would make it up there. It goes straight up. Are you really going to try?”

  “I don’t really want to, but, somehow we have to make it up there. I can’t leave you down here alone, the Scaethers could come, or the Reevins, or whatever else the sands want to throw at us next. Sooner or later, wherever we go, they’ll find us. The gods aren’t going to give us much more time. After all, that’s what the Scaethers are for. They’re hunters.”

  “So are you,” Kera said. “So is Lilaci.”

  Fewn sighed. “You know Lilaci is probably dead, right? If she were alive don’t you think she would’ve come by now? And she wouldn’t be pleased with me. You know it would’ve turned to a fight between us, right?”

  “That’s not true, I would talk to her. I’d tell her that you regret what you did and that you helped me— are helping me. She’d forgive you. I know she would.”

  “Well, I don’t think we’re going to see the answer to that question. I hate to say it, because you cared for her so much, but I think she’s just another part of your past. Now . . . let me go and catch you some food like I promised, then I’ll figure out a way for us to get up there, together.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “What do you mean Burr—?” Roren said, “—So are we . . . You’re saying we’re cursed now because of the pixies?”

  “Yes, Burr,” Lilaci added, leaning in towards him. “Tell us what you know. Those . . . Pixies . . . They knew things. Were they telling the truth? Where did they come from?”

  “We should keep going,” Burr said, his voice bereft of sympathy. “We’re almost there.”

  “We can walk and talk,” Roren said. “You can’t just say something like that, and not go on. The pixies, did they speak to you as well?”