Heir of the Elements
Page 15
“Very few slaves are taught in the ways of literature.” He breathed in heavily. “Is that all it took to give it away?”
“No. You also have beds, but never use them. The one here hasn’t even been slept on because you’re used to sleeping on the floor.”
Aya stopped talking. She could continue on with more odd intricacies, but what good would that do? She’d proven her point. Besides, he had yet to mention the girl that she reminded him of.
It took a long time, but finally he spoke. He recounted his story as she listened silently. He told her how he was born into slavery. He would work from sunup to sundown. It was there that he was taught carpentry. Even as a child, he was expected to keep up with the grown men, so he worked hard and learned quickly.
Suddenly, Aya realized Armeen had been telling the truth. He had indeed built most of the village himself. His training as a slave had ensured that.
“She was a slave in Ferenzie’s slave camp as well,” continued Armeen. “Seeing you reminds me so much of her. She was strong. You should have seen that lassie. The way she stood up for everyone was inspiring. And despite being blind, she could fight with the best of them.”
Aya found her interest suddenly peaked. A blind girl who could fight? There couldn’t be too many of those.
“What was her name?” she asked.
Armeen looked up at her with wary eyes. “Keira.”
Chapter 16
“What did you say?” asked Aya.
“Keira. That was her name.”
She couldn’t believe it. She had met Keira on her previous mission to Sugiko. She did recall Nanake saying that Keira had been lost for a few years and that she never spoke of her time away, but Aya had assumed that Keira had been hiding in the woods. Even stranger, Armeen didn’t seem to know that Keira was a princess. Well, empress now. Aya herself had aided her in reclaiming her rightful place as Empress of Sugiko.
“How did you escape?” Aya asked, opting not to tell him that there was a strong chance she knew the person he was speaking about. Getting his hopes up falsely would only be cruel.
But Armeen didn’t answer. Obviously exhausted, he crumpled to the floor and fell in a deep sleep, his snores echoing loudly off the walls.
Aya undid the sheet from the bed and carefully set it over the captain.
“Dream well. I’m sure you’ll find who you’re looking for soon enough,” she whispered as she closed the door and walked outside.
~~~
The next few hours passed in a blur. The first chance she had, Aya got on the carriage and headed back down to the jungle floor. Sitting beside a hut, she went over the navigation book she had borrowed from Armeen, trying to figure out the weather patterns along the sea. Surely with a little studying, she could chart out the best course of travel. However, she found it impossible to concentrate. Before, the task of finding the shortcut and getting to Missea had kept her mind from focusing on her family. But now? She found that she did not have anything to keep those thoughts from invading her mind.
The images of her father flashed in her mind, reminding her that she was not a Ladrian, but a Suteckh like her sister, the Blood Empress.
She had spent so much time thinking her sister was dead, and now part of her wished she were. Selene had been twisted from that innocent sweet girl she knew as a child to a ruler of destruction. How was she supposed to get past countless years of brainwashing?
Sensing the hopelessness of the situation caused her eyes to burn as slow tears fell from her eyes. Selene? What have they done to you? What have they done?
~~~
Falcon was surprised to find Aya sitting alone by a hut when they walked back into the camp. Her eyes were red, almost as if she had just finished crying.
“What happened?” she asked, wiping her eyes. She looked from Sheridan to Falcon.
Gertie shoved his finger at Hiromy’s direction. “She alerted Ferenzie of our location!”
“We don’t know that yet,” countered Sheridan as Hiromy stared down at the ground.
Gertie simply groaned and headed up to the trees, no doubt to report to Armeen what had occurred.
When the captain came back, he did not look nearly as angry as Falcon thought he was going to be. If anything, he looked rather jubilant and well rested.
“If what Gertie said is true,” the captain declared, “then we must make haste across the sea at once. If we leave tomorrow morning, we may yet make it to the pass on time.”
That was certainly good news for Falcon. He yearned to get to Missea as soon as possible.
“What about Ferenzie?” asked Aya.
“Don’t fret about him. Even if he saw the water tower, it would take him quite some time to locate us. Remember that I said his tracking skills are sub-par. Besides, we know not if he even saw the water tower. We’ll leave at first light tomorrow. That will give me more than enough time to return and see to my people.”
The news that Ferenzie might have spotted them did not hinder the spirits in the camp. The main reason for this was the newfound supply of food that Armeen had brought.
Faith, along with the women from the kitchen, brought out plate after plate of food. Children ran around the camp and up into the trees, carrying food to the people above.
“They certainly don’t seem worried,” said Falcon. He sat beside his group of friends on the ground. Hiromy and Sheridan were sharing a plate of drumsticks and peanuts together. Aya had a full plate of food, but she barely picked at it. Faith carried a deep bowl with a variety of herbs.
“That’s because they have complete faith in their captain,” said Faith.
Falcon sighed silently. Not Faith too. It was bad enough Aya saw stars every time she was with Armeen.
“I think he’s hiding something,” he said, taking a bite out of the buttery pichion drumstick. “I heard Gertie saying something about him being with Ferenzie once. I think that perhaps they were once partners, until Armeen stole from him, that is.”
“He stole himself,” said Faith.
“What?” Falcon looked at Faith in confusion.
“I spoke to his mother when we were preparing the food. She was a slave when she gave birth to Armeen, which meant that he too was a slave.”
Aya nodded knowingly, and Falcon flinched back, taking a deep breath. Apparently I’m the only one who doesn’t know what’s going on.
Faith took a small bite from a piece of crunchy lettuce before continuing. “He escaped soon after, but he didn’t stop there. He came back and freed hundreds of slaves, including his mother. Since then he’s been going around freeing slaves from all over Va’siel and bringing them here, where they can live in peace.”
“That’s bad news for you, Hyatt,” said Sheridan with a smirk.
“Me?”
“Yes. You’ve been looking for a reason to hate him, but it’s hard to hate a pirate who steals people to give them their freedom.”
“I don’t want to hate him,” lied Falcon. The truth was that Sheridan was right. He had hoped that the secret Armeen was something less… well, noble. But as luck would have it, he seemed to be a bona fide hero.
The thought that his sense of judgment was so terrible brought a smile to Falcon’s face. He didn’t mean to, it just spread across his face unwillingly, fueled by the years and years of times he’d been wrong about so many people: Professor Kraimaster, Braiden, Lao, and now Captain Armeen. What’s wrong with me? The more he thought about it, the more comical it became, and he found himself chuckling under his breath.
“That’s a first,” said Sheridan, looking down at Falcon’s emblem with eyes wide. “It looks like Hemstath’s rubbing off on you.”
He looked down at his emblem and saw that indeed his emblem had taken a slight white color of holy. A warm feeling spread through him as he and Faith’s gazes met, and once again he chuckled, no longer sure what exactly he was so happy about.
Everyone in the group, including Aya, looked at him in confusion for a whil
e, then they too broke out in contagious laughter.
There, under the stars, the five friends rejoiced and told stories, making the night pass in a blur of strange bliss.
~~~
The next morning they trekked through the jungle and boarded the Gold Chaser before the suns had even reached the top of the mountain. More jubilant than he’d felt in a long time, Falcon was still feeling the effects of the small control of holy wielding he had experienced the night before.
The fact that Aya was no longer locked up in Armeen’s cabin helped raise his spirits.
Faith, Aya, and Hiromy had spent most of the walk behind everyone else, lost in conversation. And now, aboard the ship, they were doing the same. The trio stood at the front of deck, snickering quietly among themselves. For a while, at least, things seemed to be relatively back to normal. Except for the fact that he and Aya hadn’t really spoken much other than that morning when she had yelled at him.
“We’re making good progress,” called Armeen. The captain walked across the deck, his footsteps echoing loudly on the old wood. “I knew that we would be there.” He stood at the front of the ship and spread his hands, letting the fresh breeze flow around his body.
“Hey, Hyatt,” called Sheridan. Like Falcon, he was bent over cleaning the wood panels with a small brush. “Can you believe that guy? He might be some great liberator, but he’s still a pest. He could have us do anything, but instead he has us help with the lowest of the jobs here.” He pointed to the dragon insignia on his chest. “We’re Rohads, not some peons.”
“He’s not too bad,” said Falcon.
Sheridan stopped scrubbing and looked at him suspiciously.
Without saying a word, Falcon looked down and continued to work. I can’t believe I just said that. What was he thinking? Armeen was the same man who had been robbing him of the time he could have spent with Aya, the same man who had made him clean decks. He couldn’t defend him now. But despite searching for something negative to say about him, nothing came to mind. Apparently the holy wielding had worked a bit too well.
He supposed that was good news. That could only mean that he was getting a step closer to controlling the chaos. Nonetheless, he remained quiet as he continued to work. Who knew what this holy energy would make him do next. Why, next time he might actually go on an Armeen-complimenting rant.
It was many hours later and dusk had begun to settle in when Gertie finally called out that land had come into view.
Falcon looked out at the horizon, struggling to see the land that Gertie was referring to. He searched aimlessly, but all he made out was dark water clashing and rising and falling against each other.
“It’s right in there.” Armeen handed Falcon the long spyglass he carried around his waist.
With it, Falcon managed to spot a small speck of gray and white in the vast sea.
“That’s the pass?” asked Falcon, doubtfully. The piece of land, if it could even be called that, looked barely big enough to hold a dozen people. He failed to see how that constituted a shortcut to Missea.
“Yes, at least that is what the young lassie, Aya, believes.” He looked over at Aya and gave her a long stare that Falcon did not like.
The Gold Chaser moved closer, and the small piece of land took a form. As Falcon had suspected, it wasn’t much to look at. It had a few white, sharp-edged rocks, some specks of sand, but nothing much beside that.
The Rohads, Armeen, and Faith got off and moved around the small island. Everyone else remained on board.
Aya got on her knees and began to brush away the sand.
“What does she search for? Treasure?” asked one of the pirates, his eyes twinkling with hungry anticipation.
No one answered, opting to watch Aya as she continued to brush away the sand.
There’s nothing there. As the thought crossed his mind, a piece of metal revealed itself, embedded under the sand. A few wipes later and the squared rusted hatch came into view.
Everyone held their breath when their eyes fell on the insignia that had been burnt into the very metal. It rose from the hatch as if someone had fire wielded it with blue fire.
Even Sheridan, who was always ready with a comment, had fallen silent.
Falcon took in the oval shape with a cross in the middle with awe and fear. Even he recognized the insignia of the Onaga clansmen, a race of diabolical creatures that had been thought to have gone instinct over a century ago.
~~~
Melousa, Queen of the Orian warriors, took a large bite of the chunk of meat in her hands. She savored each salted bite. In her other hand she carried the entire leg of a lamb. In no time, all that was left was bare bone. She enjoyed eating, but consuming food was more of a necessity than pleasure. She stood over fourteen feet tall, with powerful legs that were long and easily six feet by themselves. A muscular figure like hers required an immense amount of energy.
She tossed the bones over to her two chileras, which flanked her at her throne, a piece of rock with another piece of rock behind it to lean on. The giant cat-like animals tore at the bones with a ravenous hunger. Usually, she would have fed them meat as well, but events had not been going well in her jungle-kingdom for some time now. Food was scarce, and more and more land was being lost every year.
“Damn imperials,” she cursed under her breath. The capital cities from across the ocean had been constantly poaching her land, looking for rare spices and animal fur. It didn’t matter how many she killed. The city fools kept on coming like a locust plague, intent on taking all her domain.
Melousa glared around her. There was a large collection of palm-leaved huts sloppily spread about. No one was inside any of the huts, however, for now was the time of the gauntlet. Every single one of her female warriors was expected to be outside, at the center of the village, to either watch or participate in the battles.
There had been no wars in many years, and this had become the only way to appease the savage nature of her warriors.
“Clete,” she called. A bronze-skinned warrior stood and walked to the battleground, which was nothing more than an oval clearing surrounded by long spikes. Many were the warriors who had met their end on those spikes, and Melousa was certain many more would follow. Whenever one of them died, she would not mourn them or give them a proper burial. To die in battle was to be weak and weakness was something the Orian warriors did not tolerate.
“Scyleia!” This time, a woman, almost as tall as the queen herself, stood and entered the arena.
Both women grabbed a spear and faced each other.
“Show no mercy to yer fellow sister!” Melousa ordered to both women. “Kill!”
The woman moved against each other, but just as their weapons were about to clash, something strange happened.
The earth shook.
“Find the wielder!” yelled Melousa, her rage instantly intensifying. She recognized the power of earth wielders immediately, and if there was anything she hated more than capital city people, it was earth wielders. “Bring me their bloodied corpse so I be breaking every bone from their body myself.”
“No need to for such violence,” called a calm voice. The earth moved forward in waves, holding above it a man who looked to be made of Earth itself. He had deep brown skin that looked to be cracked in pieces. Every cut of his body was etched in a deep crimson. “I’m Kaidoz, General of the Suteckh Empire. I have a proposition for you, great queen.”
~~~
Kaidoz’s eyes met those of the wild queen that sat on a dreary piece of rock. Hundreds of skulls and bones surrounded her “throne.” Indeed, the stories he’d heard had been true. Melousa was the tallest woman he had ever seen. Like many of her kind, all of her skin was a deep purple. She wore a dark brown rag that covered her breast, and another old rag hung under her waistline. A long bone ran horizontally through her nose and circled on both sides, coming together above her thick lips. Her untamed, dark hair was long, reaching to her lower back. Another explosion of spiked hair spurt at
op her head, pointing to the skies. Dozens of bracelets dangled on her arms and legs. A long necklace of bones fell from her neck.
“I be wanting no proposition from yer!” roared the Melousa. Spears in hand, her warriors took an offensive stance. “For yer insolence I be having yer killed.”
Kaidoz held his hand up. “I have information on your children!”
“Cidralic and Dokua!” She stomped her foot, her fangs bare as they spit out drool. “I could be caring less of those two. Cidralic left his own kin to be a lowly commander to those Suteckh. Can yer imagine the shame? A son of mine, serving capital city vermin!” She rolled her massive fist. “Dokua was no better. She left seeking revenge for a brother that be not worth it. And to be making everything worse, those two died in battle!”
Kaidoz nodded. He was well aware of the Orians’ beliefs. For them, dying in battle was a sign of weakness. A public mark of humiliation that branded one unworthy. It was the dream of every Orian warrior to die of old age. This was the only way of proving one’s superiority over one’s foes.
“Great Queen—”
“No more words. Yer be bringing me unpleasant news. Yer shall die a painful death at my hands!”
The queen stood. Despite his hint of apprehension, Kaidoz remained still. It was imperative that he remain calm. Besides, the queen was blessed with skin of the ancients. This meant that she could take a lot of attacks, even elemental ones, without going down. This might account for why she was over one hundred years old but showed no sign of her age.
“I thought you wanted revenge on Empress Latiha of Missea,” he said. As he’d expected, the queen stopped dead in her tracks. Her face registered a sense of confusion. Kaidoz could tell she was having an inner struggle. Part of her wished nothing more than to kill the earth wielder before her, but the other, more vengeful side, wanted to know what news he brought of her ancient rival.
“It not be mattering what I want with that squaw,” she said, her curiosity winning out. “The Golden Wielder put a protection shell over her. Even I be not strong enough to defy his earth power.” Her gaze turned to Kaidoz, and she stomped her foot, causing the skulls to rattle as they tumbled crashed into each other. “I be hating earth wielders! Yer die!”