by J. M. Topp
‘The Elves?’
‘No.’ He chuckled. ‘They couldn’t cure a cold if they wanted to.’ Artus stood up from his chair and downed the rest of his soup. Elymiah put a hand to the brand on her neck.
‘How can you heal me?’
Artus set the wooden bowl on the table and wiped moisture from his lips. ‘I can’t, but I know someone who can. You must come with me to the Red Vale Keep.’
‘What’s going to be there?’
‘The third reason I left.’
YORVETH DOCKS WERE a bittersweet sight for Elymiah to witness. Ever since she could remember, she had always wanted to live by the sea. Aivaterra was landlocked, and except for the Kingsoul River, Elymiah had received very little exposure to any body of water. To see one so close and so empty was an odd feeling to her. The sea was barren of any ships, except for a small wooden barge bobbing up and down on the water. Artus and Pate had been able to find a ship captain that had wandered in from Sarene Bay. Ship Captain Ornelis had been drunk and barely lucid enough to stand, yet he claimed to have a barge that would take anyone with coin into the Isles of Brume if necessary. Fortunately, they didn’t need to go to those shadow lands quite yet, but only down the coast to the Red Vale Keep.
Elymiah stared at the waters beneath the small wooden dock she was standing on. They rippled slightly as they rose and fell in the wave of the currents. She looked up at the barge that was supposed to be taking them on their voyage.
The Painted Basilisk must have been made from wrecked ship parts. The wood was discoloured, and the sails themselves were patched and torn in some areas. The gilded figurehead was some kind of mermaid, but Elymiah couldn’t really tell. Yet the woman’s head and arms were reaching for the skies. Her arms were missing up to her elbows and were jutting into the skies. Her face was worn by countless journeys across the salty seas, but the rounded nose remained.
‘She’s a beauty, isn’t she?’
Elymiah turned to the ship captain, who had still not found his balance altogether. He smelt of sweaty dog, and he was chewing on some sort of white root. Elymiah turned to look back at the barge. It did have some twisted kind of beauty—almost like a real ship was hidden behind broken and rotted balsam.
‘Are you some kind of knight?’ Ornelis glanced at Elymiah whilst still chewing the root. Elymiah ignored the ship captain and walked over to where Artus and Pate were talking. Robyn sat beside them with his hood covering his face.
Artus hugged Pate warmly and patted his shoulder.
‘You did well in sending for me, old friend. Farewell.’
‘Is he not coming with us?’ Elymiah asked.
Pate shook his head with a smile. ‘My adventuring days with daemon hunters are over. I just cut wood now and take care of the mill.’
Pate stretched his hand out to Elymiah. She took it and shook it twice. ‘You saved my life and that of my Robyn. I don’t know how to repay you.’
‘You won’t have to worry about something like that, Elymiah. Just remember that there is a place in Yorveth that you can call home if you need a place to lay low. I give that service to any daemon hunters and their families,’ Pate said with a grin and a nod to Artus. ‘Farewell.’
Elymiah followed Artus up the gangway into the Painted Basilisk, holding Robyn’s hand. The few crewmen that Captain Ornelis did have under his service were just as smelly and unsavory as he was. Yet they ran around the deck, securing lines and preparing for departure with as much decorum as Elymiah suspected a well-trained fleet to have. It was Elymiah’s first time aboard a ship, and her balance shifted as she tried to walk on the wooden deck. Ornelis stood at the helm of the ship with a circular wooden wheel in his hands. He put a tricorne on his head and shouted something that Elymiah didn’t quite understand.
Artus leaned over to her.
‘It’s a form of prayer.’
‘Who is he praying to?’
‘The god of the seas, or whatever gods will listen,’ Artus whispered into her ear. ‘There is a storm coming.’
Elymiah stared at the captain as he shouted strange words to the skies. The sails of the Painted Basilisk dropped and filled with wind from the west. Yorveth disappeared over waves as the ship sailed south, to the Red Vale Keep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Gathering of Exiles
THE BEAST STOOD up and looked down in shock at itself. Ayda glanced to her side. The refugees were running in all directions, crazed and without sense, and explosions still rocked the tiles beneath her. Ayda tried to move, but her arms and legs ignored her.
‘What the fuck?’ she whispered.
Rebecca walked in front of her and knelt.
‘All will be clear before long, little one. This trick only lasts a short time. I suggest we move on to a place where we can make this more permanent.’ Rebecca smiled and touched Ayda’s shoulder. It felt like a rush of feeling came back to her body. She had control once more. Her eyes darted to the mighty beast before them. Gruizoch stared intently back at her with sparkling blue eyes, but it didn’t say a word.
‘It’s best for now if you don’t talk to him. He has a long way to go to understand the strength he now wields,’ Rebecca whispered in Ayda’s ear. ‘Come now.’
‘I thought we had to go north?’ asked Ayda.
‘We do, but I have to make sure of something now that we’re in this mess of a city,’ said Rebecca. She turned to squat close to the ground. Almost as if pulled by strings, Ayda climbed onto her back. Rebecca tapped the horned beast’s shoulder and grabbed Ayda’s hand, guiding them further into the city. Ayagi hissed loudly but didn’t attack. He slithered beside Rebecca, eyeing the Minotaur cautiously. Suddenly, an explosion far away rocked the stone streets beneath them.
‘We don’t have much time,’ said Rebecca as she gritted her teeth. ‘The Hallowed Masters are going to blow Aivaterra to oblivion before surrendering it to the daemons.’ Rebecca broke into a sprint, holding Ayda close to her side. They ran through street after street, with Ayagi behind them and Gruizoch not far after, keeping pace with hulking steps. A few daemons did get in their way, but Ayagi wasted no time in dispatching them. Ayda turned her head away as Ayagi tore into dark flesh, consuming the shocked daemons. She never realized how much she depended on Ayagi until he had left her body. Rebecca and the Minotaur stared as Ayagi fed. Once the serpent was full, it turned to them and they continued through the streets of Aivaterra. Rebecca stopped right outside a small mud house with the sign of a white anvil above the doorway. Ayda looked up at the old wood. It read The Iron Aegis. Rebecca turned to the Minotaur and Ayagi.
‘Ayda and I will go in. You two stay out here and guard the door,’ Rebecca said. The explosions had become softer and were merely a pounding in the background. Ayda knew that it wouldn’t be long before the Aivaterrans began to blow up this part of the city. Ayagi flicked his tongue at the beast. Rebecca tapped his scales. ‘Try not to kill each other.’
Rebecca opened the door and pulled Ayda in with her. She unsheathed her blade and closed the door behind her. A musky film of fog covered the floor like a smoke carpet. Swords and shields were strewn on the sides of the room. The fire of the kiln seemed to have been snuffed out for a while. Ayda sniffed the air. Burnt metal smells filled her nostrils.
‘Andre?’ Rebecca called softly as she scanned the room. Ayda turned to movement behind a pile of armour, hammers, and rusted swords. A man emerged from the pile with hammer in hand. His beard was wiry, white, and thick. He had a bloodied bandage wrapped around his head. His eyes had black bags underneath them.
‘By the gods. Rebecca, is that you?’ Andre stared at the elf as if he’d seen a ghost.
‘Andre.’ Rebecca lowered her weapon and sheathed it. ‘What the hell are you still doing here?’
‘I couldn’t leave the city. This has been my home for more than a century,’ Andre said as he let the hammer fall to the floor and sat down on a chestplate. The rusted piece of armour bent under Andre’s weight, but it still h
eld him up. ‘I knew the Dark Army was coming, but Emmyth persuaded me to stay. He said he had unfinished business with the queen’s sister, Audry.’ Andre shook his head and put his hand over his mouth. He took a moment of silence and sighed heavily. ‘The daemons besieged the city for a week. The horrors were too numerous to count. Black and white ghosts haunted our dreams and waking nightmares. Screams and unnatural noises were heard outside the walls, and then…the walls collapsed without explanation. They simply walked in,’ Andre said as he stared into the sheet of fog in the shop. Rebecca knelt beside the blacksmith.
‘Where is Emmyth?’ she asked, looking into the darkness of the shop.
‘He’s gone. He left shortly before the walls fell.’
‘What of the sword you forged? You sent a letter,’ Rebecca said as she pulled a crumpled piece of paper from between her studded doublet. She let it fall to the floor of the room. ‘Emmyth found the Arkynbleidd and emerald titanite. You were supposed to reforge the sword.’
‘I did reforge it, but Emmyth…he…’ Andre struggled to speak.
‘Andre! There is a fucking war out there. Where is the Arkynbleidd!?’ shouted Rebecca, clenching her fist.
‘He stole it. By the gods, Emmyth stole the sword!’ Andre wailed as he buried his head in his hands.
Rebecca frowned and looked down at Ayda, stopping the flow of tears on his face. ‘Is that her? You mean the prophecy was real?’ Andre said as he looked at Ayda with tears in his eyes. Rebecca stepped in front of Ayda.
‘It doesn’t matter anymore. Not without that sword.’ Rebecca turned Ayda away from the blacksmith and walked out the door, leaving Andre alone in the fog of the Iron Aegis.
‘What’s gonna happen to him?’ asked Ayda as Rebecca slammed the door closed.
Rebecca shook her head and placed her hands on her hips. ‘He really fucked up. Maybe he will choke on those tears of his.’ Rebecca glanced at Ayagi and the Minotaur. Though Ayagi was glaring at the beast, they were just like Ayda and Rebecca had left them.
‘We’re leaving this godforsaken place.’
‘Where are we going?’ asked Ayda.
Rebecca sighed and then looked up to the smoky skies. ‘Felheim, the land of the elves.’
AYDA STARED AT the great horned beast uneasily as they walked along a wide golden field. Aivaterra loomed in the distance, growing smaller and smaller. Questions plagued Ayda, but she kept them to herself for now. Leaving Aivaterra was easy enough. The Hallowed Masters were attacking from the west, and most of the daemons were beginning to collect around the western walls. Rebecca thought it best to leave by the crumbled eastern walls. She was right. There were hardly any daemons there. The small band traveled north in the direction of Flodden, but Rebecca was adamant about not going anywhere near the mud village. Ayda didn’t know why. She had never been to Flodden, but there was no arguing with the elf.
It was clear that Ayagi wasn’t very comfortable being in the presence of a beast such as Gruizoch. Ayagi slithered close to Ayda. He would glance at her protectively from time to time. Rebecca would often sprint faster than the group to scout the road ahead. Once Rebecca had disappeared over a gorge they would soon cross, Ayda turned to the Minotaur. The beast smelled foul, and there was blood encrusted over his black fur. The massive warhammer slung across his back was decorated with bits of flesh and bone. Ayda looked at the missing fingers of her hand. The scars had begun to heal and didn’t hurt so much. Ayda willed herself to breathe from her mouth as she walked close to him.
‘Yo,’ Ayda said, making her voice as deep as possible, ready to jump back if she needed to. The beast turned its head slowly to look down at her. His snout was wet with moisture, and his horns sharpened and coloured crimson, but his eyes…his eyes weren’t unkind. They were sad.
He stared back into Ayda’s without a word.
‘So you can’t speak?’ she asked.
The beast shook his head.
‘Is it because if you do, I will burst into a pile of blood and bone?’ Ayda said with a soft smile. ‘That’s pretty cool.’
The beast simply stared.
‘Is it really you, Bendrick?’
The beast closed its eyes and then looked at its furry arms and body.
‘How?’
‘I don’t know.’ It was barely a whisper, but the beast’s voice rocked through Ayda’s body. Ayda immediately fell on all fours and dry heaved. Ayagi jumped in-between Ayda and the beast. He hissed, baring his fangs at Bendrick. The Minotaur bowed its head in silence and then knelt beside her and wrote something into the dust. Ayda looked over Ayagi at the words.
Sorry
It stood up and continued to walk down the path. Ayda picked herself up and whispered to Ayagi. ‘I think he is Bendrick.’
‘Be careful, Ayda. Even if he is indeed Bendrick, this beast has innate powers that Bendrick does not know how to control just yet,’ said Ayagi. Ayda stood up and ran up to walk beside the beast.
‘I need to be sure it’s you,’ she said, tapping the Minotaur on the arm. The beast gave a sideways glance. Ayda cleared her throat. ‘What were the first words you spoke to me when we first met?’
The beast thought for a moment and finally knelt and wrote into the ground once more.
Piss off
The beast stood and stared at Ayda. She looked up in awe.
‘No fucking way.’
The beast snorted. Ayda’s hands shot up in apology. ‘Sorry, sorry. I’m trying my best, honest.’
For the first time, the beast’s lips curled and gave a goofy-looking smile, despite the jagged teeth. But as soon as the smile appeared, it melted away.
‘Best not speak to him, halfling.’
Ayda jumped as she heard Rebecca’s voice. Rebecca knelt in front of Ayda. ‘You’ve seen what his voice can do. But surely you already know that. Come, I’ve found a way to cross the Kingsoul without anyone noticing. Ayagi, you have a big part to play.’
THE JOURNEY FROM the Kingsoul to the north was made much faster by the two mythic beasts. Bendrick had agreed for Rebecca to ride his back, and Ayda rode Ayagi. The two beasts ran faster than any horse, and the scenery of the plains turned to mountainous ridgeways, zipping past Ayda. At first, Bendrick’s hooves, even when running lightly, would cause small craters to form and the earth to grumble in dismay. He had to learn to walk softly and leave less evidence of his trekking. Ayda thought about what Ayagi had told her. Bendrick still didn’t know the power he now possessed.
Rebecca bounced up and down on his shoulders as Bendrick plowed through the undergrowth. Ayagi slithered as fast as he could with Ayda on his back. Ayda rested her head on the giant serpent’s scaly back. Ayagi twisted his head at her as they continued to move.
‘You have been a gracious host to me. My wurm-hood would not have been better with anyone else.’
‘Wurm-hood?’ asked Ayda, looking up into the serpent’s eyes.
‘My lifespan is said to last over a millennium, but my wurm-hood lasts no more than a few weeks.’ The serpent flicked its tongue at Ayda. ‘It has been made better because of you.’
‘It sounds like you are saying goodbye.’
The serpent looked off into the distance as they rounded over a ravine into a valley.
‘One day, I will. And when that time comes, I don’t know if I will be able to thank you.’
‘No, that day won’t come, Ayagi. Never.’
Ayda hugged the serpent’s neck and squeezed it as hard as she could. ‘As long as I live, I want to be with you,’ she whispered.
The serpent flicked its tongue once more but remained silent.
THREE DAYS HAD come and gone by the time Ayda saw the towering windmills of Whitetree Mills. Bendrick and Ayagi obviously had to stay well outside the city limits. They found a cave where they would be able to stay. Though Ayagi still didn’t like Bendrick’s presence, he seemed to have given up on the idea of fighting him. For now, there was peace between the two monsters.
Rebecca and Ayda w
alked to the small city that was Whitetree Mills. The mud-brick walls that surrounded the small city were ten feet high and three feet thick. Ayda felt she could jump over or even push them and they would fall. Dozens of towering windmills dotted the city. They were made of the same materials that the walls were made of and were taller than the walls themselves. Each windmill had four long, black pitch-covered sails decorating the vanes. Ayda scanned the greenery around them, but not a single white tree could be seen. She wondered why the town was called Whitetree Mills with mills but not much else. A thin sheet of fog lay over the town like a cold and wet blanket. Sentries with pikes and oval shields sleepily walked amidst the morning fog, peering into the woods surrounding the city. Rebecca knelt on the ground and looked Ayda in the eye.
‘You are about to meet someone you may not like very much. He may look at you wrong, but remember, he will not touch you. Not while I am there.’
Ayda simply nodded, and then Rebecca smiled.
‘I actually need your help, young one.’
‘You do?’
‘See that sentry over there?’ Rebecca said, turning to the wall of Whitetree Mills and pointing to it. Ayda spotted a man with a steel helm walking with a spear resting on his shoulder, marching through the fog with a faint whistle on his lips.
‘I need you to cause a distraction for me. When I reach the other side, I will make this sound.’
Rebecca put her hands to her lips and made a soft call like an owl. Ayda eyes widened in awe. Rebecca had made it sound so real. Ayda half expected Rebecca to burst into a cloud of feathers and fly away. Rebecca placed a hand on Ayda, bringing her back. ‘When I do that, I want you to walk to the main gate, there,’ said Rebecca, pointing at a closed wooden gate. ‘I will be waiting on the inside.’