Eluan Falls: A Whisper of Fate

by Dane G. Kroll

  Abigail smiled. “Please stand up. Keep your money. Keep your goat, your rice, and your treasures. I will help you.”

  She stepped forward with open arms toward the first man that spoke to her. The others in the group began to form a line behind him.

  Abigail would heal them one after another.

  Chapter 11

  As the sun beat down directly over the Capitol the Eluan army was stationed outside of the city’s walls. The foot soldiers stood in perfectly aligned rows, each in their own formed squadron. As soon as they received their newest orders from Nikali and the Royal Council they began to prepare for their journey.

  Nikali looked over his amassing army from the guard towers at the top of the city walls. By his side was Aul. Aul stood uneasily beside his emperor. His feet could hardly settle.

  “Are you ready?” Nikali asked.

  “Yes,” answered Aul. “I know the way.”

  “Good,” said Nikali. Then he handed Aul a bundle of papers. “Here are the letters. Keep them tucked away until necessary. Don’t let anyone see them. The map is in there as well.”

  “I don’t need it,” said Aul.

  Nikali smiled. “Then burn it.”

  Aul flipped through the papers until he came upon the map that Nikali and Cassandra had laid out for him. Aul’s eyes danced around the page one last time as he separated it from the stack of papers in his left hand.

  Then Aul held up the map away from his body with his right hand and the paper ignited. The map burned away at the top as the flame withered down toward Aul’s fingers. Before the heat was too much Aul let the paper flutter away into the wind. The fire disintegrated the last of the map and its ashes disappeared into the sky.

  “I hope to see you again, Aul,” said Nikali.

  “And I you, my Emperor,” said Aul. “My feet will feel no pain for you. We will march until our duty is over.”

  “Then get to it,” said Nikali.

  “This will be a momentous occasion,” Nikali’s speech began. He overlooked the Eluan army as thousands of people crowded on the inside of the city walls. They were all there to listen to their emperor and his mission for the future.

  “We will show the world strength again. Our enemies are out there. Remains of the Tcher army are splintered throughout our land and it is time to finish them off once and for all.”

  Quaet rushed through the streets outside of the palace. Earlier that morning he was disrupted from his daily routines through the palace by soldiers marching through the streets. Quaet stopped and watched the line of men pass the palace line by line. They were headed for the city walls.

  Quaet rushed out of the palace as quickly as his worn body could take him. By the time he hit the streets the soldiers were already gone. But to Quaet’s horror there was another legion marching his way also heading in the direction of the city walls.

  “Our brave soldiers will embark on the greatest mission Eluan has ever seen. They will hunt down every last Tcher soldier and slay them like the dogs that they are.

  “Spread the word here and now. Eluan is here to protect its people. Not to look out for other cities off the map. Not to ally ourselves with mad rulers, and try to salvage traitors to a losing side.

  “If there is an enemy of Eluan out there then point them out. Bring them to our attention and they will be dealt with. It is really that simple.”

  Horror and panic consumed Quaet. “Move! Move!” Quaet shouted at the commoners in the streets around him. “Get out of my way!”

  The streets were unusually congested because the marching troops had either blocked off the roads they were moving through or the crowd had stopped to watch the parade of soldiers go by.

  Quaet fought his way through the crowds and was finally approaching the not yet repaired gates of the Capitol. The doors were barely functional ever since Tcher had invaded. Quaet hurried along. He could see the troops in formation outside of the walls. He had to stop them.

  “I will build a stronger Eluan,” continued Nikali. “I will protect you all from any danger. No force will attack us as long as I am here, and I promise no enemy will strike us from inside these walls. I am the all seeing eye of Charos. I am your protector and there will be nobody left that can challenge that. Once the land is cleansed of our enemies, together, we will usher in peace to Eluan.”

  The old man shuffled along towards the city’s exit, but he grew slower with every step. His body was betraying him. His feet ached, his back was soar, and his head contained a headache from before he had woken up.

  Finally, Quaet made it to the front gates, but it was too late. The Eluan army was marching away to the roaring cheers and celebration of the Eluan citizens.

  “Stop! Stop! I order you to come back!” Quaet yelled out, but it was no use. They could not hear him from that distance, and Quaet knew it was useless. The order had gone out.

  Quaet shook his head in disbelief. It was unheard of. There was no reason to have that many soldiers on the mission. Quaet turned back to look at the city that was betraying him. The wall was in shambles. Blood and burn marks decorated the sides of the wall. Then up top on the guard’s tower, Quaet could see the figure of Nikali watching over his army marching into the horizon.

  The council member could not take his eyes off of the false emperor. Nikali was destroying everything Quaet had worked hard for, and he wasn’t going to allow that.

  Chapter 12

  Quaet walked softly through the hallways. He did not want to be noticed or detected. While Nikali may have been down below in the private chambers of the palace, he still feared anybody would question Quaet’s presence. He was making his way to visit with Empress Marina.

  On Heric’s orders, Marina was sentenced to exile in her own palace quarters. Quaet never agreed with the situation, but it was not his place to question the Emperor. Until now. He was going to have to look for brave soldiers to save Eluan from Nikali’s mad aspirations.

  He knocked on the door several times. Each knock was an attempt to be quiet, but still loud enough to get the attention of Marina. Quaet had gathered reports from the servants that approached the doors throughout the day to tend to Marina’s food and waste. They told him that Marina had gone quiet. When she was first locked away, she screamed for days. She pleaded with Heric to release her. Eventually she gave in to her fate.

  “My Empress, are you there?” Quaet whispered through the small portal in the door. “I must speak with you.”

  Quaet waited a moment. He heard shuffling behind the door in front of him. Then Marina appeared through the slot in the door. She looked at Quaet eye to eye.

  “Quaet, what is happening?” Marina asked. “It has been too long.”

  “I am sorry, my Empress. Nikali has been causing many disturbances.”

  Marina’s eyes went wide with fear and anger. Her breathing grew heavy as she seethed through the door. “Get me out of here. With Heric gone I am the commander of Eluan. I order for my release.”

  “It is not that simple,” said Quaet. “Nikali has a legitimate claim to the throne. His following is growing.”

  “Nikali is an infidel. He needs to be slain before he brings any more of the darkness to our lives. He cannot rule Eluan. Have you messaged my father?”

  “You talk of killing Nikali?” Quaet restated.

  “He is holding the Empress hostage now,” said Marina. “He is a threat to Eluan. Even if he carries the Caning name.”

  “Will your family aid us in fighting against Nikali?” Quaet asked hesitantly.

  “Of course,” said Marina. “He will not stand for any of this. His own daughter is locked away, and his new allies have become corrupted by the avadons. How have you not messaged him yet?”

  “It is difficult,” said Quaet. “The old tree bridge is lost to our records.”

  “Alexus kept many secrets,” said Marina. “I trust you will find it soon.”

  “I will do what I can,” said Quaet. “We are on our own for the time
being. You must keep this quiet. When the time comes you will be the face of the Eluan Empire. Armies will rally around you and they will challenge Nikali for the throne.”

  “Of course,” said Marina.

  “And I will be by your side,” said Quaet. “Every step of the way. With your power and my knowledge of Eluan we will be unstoppable. Emperor Cyrus believed you to be a perfect fit for Heric. I believe he did not think far enough. I believe you are a perfect fit for Eluan itself.”

  Marina could not help but smile. She had prayed every day since being thrown away in her chambers, and finally the gods had answered her prayers. Quaet was going to be her guardian angel.

  “When do we begin?” Marina asked.

  “I will free you as soon as possible, but you must be patient. There are still more pieces I have to put in place. Nikali has severely weakened us, but I know enough names that will fight against him. It will not be long.”

  “Thank you, Quaet,” said Marina. “Once again you go above and beyond for myself and my family. You will be dearly rewarded when this is all over.”

  “Thank you, my Empress,” said Quaet. “When this is over our names will be etched in the annals of history.”

  Chapter 13

  After only a couple of weeks the entire village near the inn and tavern had been healed by Abigail. As the hundreds in the village started to stop by the inn, offerings, whether Abigail wanted them or not, were left at the door of the inn every morning. Generally, it was food that was left which Abigail shared with the others at the inn, but often enough one of the healed would pay in coin or a family heirloom, or even land deeds. Darden was more than happy to accept those payments on behalf of Abigail.

  The innkeeper had turned one of the rooms at the inn into a workspace for Abigail. It offered the ill victims privacy when showing their hives to Abigail and a peace of mind for those already healed that they wouldn’t risk getting infected again, even though it had never spread before through contact with the hives.

  A line of people stood outside the inn waiting their turn to see Abigail. For the first time since Tcher invaded there were smiles on the people’s faces. They sang and shared stories about the people that had been healed. Abigail was their miracle savior.

  Grifith was busy trying to keep the people waiting comfortable. He offered blankets to lie on while outside. After a couple of days he got accustomed to Abigail’s timings and even when she would need a break. He would rush to get her a plate of pork, water, and a mug of Tamor Blood whenever necessary.

  On one peaceful day, the inns usual routine was broken by the sounds of an oncoming carriage. It rushed through the rocky street that led to the inn and tavern. Everybody outside turned to see the commotion on wheels approaching them. The royal carriage was an unusual sight for the villagers.

  Finally, the carriage slowed down and the driver jumped off before it came to a complete stop. He ran away from the carriage as fast as he could toward the inn. Grifith was there to stop the driver from running directly into the crowd of people and causing a further panic.

  “What’s wrong?” Grifith asked.

  “I need to speak with the healer,” said the carriage driver.

  “Okay,” said Grifith. “I understand you are in a lot of pain, but there is a line now. You’ll have to wait. She will get to everybody. I promise.”

  “No,” said the driver. “It’s not for me. It’s for my passengers. They need help, right now.”

  “What’s going on here?” Darden asked on his approach to the situation.

  “I have a very important client in my carriage,” said the driver harshly. “They demand an assembly with the healer here. This instant.”

  “What is the problem?” Grifith asked.

  “Their son is ill. He has a fever. The locals recognized it. They said that the healer here, Farrah, could help him. They will pay whatever you ask.”

  Darden’s head perked up. He looked over at the royal carriage across the lawn. This wasn’t a poor villager that Abigail and the others could happily wave through with a friendly smile as payment. These were people that had no problem paying, and could easily over pay. Darden could not hold back his smile.

  “The boy is in the carriage?” Darden asked.

  “Yes, with his parents,” answered the driver.

  Darden looked across the lawn from the carriage to the inn. There were dozens of people standing between them. Cutting in line was going to be an issue, let alone walking through a boy that was contagious. This whole mess could start up again. Everything Abigail was doing for this village could be erased with one cough.

  “Grifith, go get Farrah,” ordered Darden. “Bring her to the carriage. I don’t want to let the boy out near everybody else.”

  “We can’t just let them cut in line,” said Grifith. “Some of these people have been waiting for days.”

  “Then they can wait a little longer,” said the driver.

  “Guy is right,” said Darden.

  “They are in pain,” argued Grifith.

  “And the boy could die from the fever. Get Farrah. I’ll talk to the parents.”

  Grifith put his head down and listened to his friend. Darden was the man with the plans between the two of them. Grifith knew better than to question Darden’s ideas.

  Grifith did not make eye contact with anybody in line. He quietly walked past them and headed towards Abigail’s room. He knocked gently and once he heard her say it was okay to come in he did.

  “A boy is running a fever,” said Grifith. “He needs your help.”

  Farrah was finishing up with her latest patient. The woman was lying on her stomach. Her bare back was pale from being freshly healed.

  “Where is he?” Abigail asked. She did not show any hesitation for helping him or worry about the others that were waiting.

  “He is out in a carriage,” said Grifith. “Darden did not want to bring him out.”

  Abigail nodded her head as she understood the situation. She put on her cloak to ready herself. Grifith led the way for Abigail. As soon as she stepped outside the people in line jumped to their feet. Grifith and the innkeeper had to run interference to stop the line from mobbing Abigail. They reached out with their hands to try and touch Abigail in the hopes that would be enough to relieve their pain.

  Abigail did not stop. As she walked toward the carriage she let the grasps of the people around her brush past.

  Darden was standing outside the carriage. He looked to be talking through a screened window. The driver was busy unpacking several bags at the top of the carriage. He rearranged some pieces of luggage and tossed down a couple at Darden’s feet. A small chest jingled as it crashed to the ground.

  As soon as he saw Abigail he ended his conversation with the family in the carriage and came up to her. “It’s a senator from Cann. He’s traveling with his family. They didn’t know the illness was still prevalent out here. They barely heard about it up north. You’ll probably have to treat all three of them. They didn’t want to leave their son alone. They haven’t shown symptoms, but I assume it’s only a matter of time.”

  “I understand,” said Abigail. She approached the door of the carriage. Shadowed figures appeared through the windows. They had watched Abigail on her walk toward them. Before Abigail could knock the carriage door opened just a crack.

  Abigail opened the door the rest of the way, just enough to let her slip in and close the door behind her. As soon as she was safely inside she removed her hood to greet the family with a smile.

  “Hello, my name is Farrah. I’m here to help,” assured Abigail.

  At first not a word came from the parents. The only sound in the carriage was the moaning of the boy in the back sweating away during his fever.

  Finally, the father shook his head. “No. Absolutely not.”

  The father’s objections took Abigail by surprise. “Your boy is sick. I can help him.”

  “You will not touch him,” said the father.

 
“Honey, what are you saying?” his wife asked. “We came all this way.”

  “Look at her,” said the senator from Cann. “She’s from Prial.”

  His wife looked at the senator in horror. “I don’t care if she’s the Renee herself. If she can help Regan than we need to take it.”

  Abigail kept quiet while the parents argued.

  “She’s just as likely to kill him as the fever is,” said the senator. “Regan can get through this.”

  “Then what?” asked his wife. “They said he’ll have the Tcher Touch for the rest of his life. He’ll suffer. That is no life for my son. That war was over twenty years ago. It’s done. She says she will help, and I am not going to turn my back from that.”

  The father hesitated at his wife’s words, but the decision was made and he had no further say in the matter. He stepped aside and allowed a clear path for Abigail to get close to his son, Regan.

  “Thank you,” said Abigail. She moved through the tight quarters of the carriage and kneeled down next to the sick boy.

  “Hello,” said Abigail. “I’m here to make you feel better.”

  Grifith and Darden waited outside the carriage. The healing was taking longer than the others. Grifith knew there were three people in the carriage that more than likely all needed treatment, but still the afternoon was slipping into evening. The sun was going down and the day would soon be over. He worried about Abigail’s energy. She would need to rest after this surely. The others in line would have to wait for tomorrow.

  The carriage door eventually opened as the sun disappeared over the horizon. Abigail stepped out. Her head hung low. Grifith was quick to offer his support. Abigail leaned against him. She was exhausted.

  The senator stood just inside the door of the carriage. His face held the expression of gratitude and shame. “Thank you,” he said. “I… I’m sorry.”

  Then he disappeared back into the cabin. Right behind him Regan and his mother popped up.

  “Bye!” Regan called out at Abigail, waving his hand furiously. “Thank you!”