You can’t come with me. You have to go to the Lands of Men.
He tried to force away the words, but she was so hard to ignore. “If it’s what she wants.”
It is.
Krishani hung his head. He glanced back at the trees towards Orlondir, guilt and regret eating away at him. I can never return, he realized. What Mallorn said was true. Istar wanted Krishani to leave without saying goodbye to Kaliel, wanted him to renounce his love and answer his calling as the Ferryman.
He looked back at the boat and sighed. “I never thought I would leave Avristar without you.”
“I suppose that means you’re ready to go?” Mallorn said from the trees.
Krishani turned to him and gulped, surprised by his presence. He frowned, wanting to be angry with the old man, but headed towards the cabin. “It was the last thing she wanted me to do,” he grumbled.
• • •
Mallorn was in the cellar too long. Krishani sat on the mound, chilly night air against his face. He wanted to tell Mallorn he would never be ready to go to the Lands of Men, but it was too late. Mallorn was packing, and he was content to leave the logistics up to the old man. He had no idea where on Terra the Tavesin family was, or how they would arrive. Another gust of wind blew across the mound, ruffling Krishani’s cloak. He hugged it to his shoulders, cursing his lanky frame, and looked at the sky above the trees. He wondered if Avristar would ever be perfect. He had to relinquish those thoughts. It was no longer his concern.
“I need you down here, boy,” Mallorn called.
Krishani heaved a sigh and followed the old man down the ladder. The cellar was lit by a single torch, shadows flickering against the walls. Another scroll stretched out along the wooden table, showing an island larger than Avristar, and far more foreboding.
“This island sits to the North of Avristar, but the Tavesin Castle is on the opposite shore.” Mallorn pointed at a part of the map, but Krishani yawned.
“Why does it matter?”
Mallorn cleared his throat. “The Lands of Men are different.”
Krishani looked at the map and frowned. “How do you mean Avristar is to the south of this island?”
Mallorn shifted his gaze to the other scrolls. “You’re thinking linear again. Avristar is … unique. The gateways provide access to everywhere in the lands. On Terra it is a hidden island.”
“Meaning it is physically in the Lands of Men?”
“And it is not.”
“At the same time?”
Mallorn pulled out another scroll and looked at the boy’s features. “Istar said you read a lot in the library. You should have learned this by now.”
Krishani smirked. He ducked his head to the floor to avoid Mallorn’s penetrating glare. “He assigned me the task many times …” It had been a long time since he thought of lessons. He used to skip library time for Kaliel. He never bothered reading a single volume. It was antiquated knowledge and Istar told him it was unimportant. If he needed to focus, Kaliel was better for that than any book.
Mallorn shook his head. “The knowledge is lost on you.”
“Aye.” Krishani’s mind circled around other truths, things he would miss in Avristar, like the fire festivals and the changing seasons. Those things would always remind him of home.
“We will need to travel light, and not make a spectacle of ourselves until we reach the Tavesin Castle.”
Krishani frowned. “Why is that?”
The old man sighed again. “Perhaps you haven’t noticed I’m not human, and neither are you.”
“Will that be a problem?” Krishani asked slowly.
Mallorn gathered up the scroll, and grabbed the one of the family crest. “The Lands of Men are facing war. They won’t look kindly upon strangers.” He moved towards an old chest pressed against the wall and pulled out a folded beige canvas and some cloths.
“How did they ever manage with Kuruny?” Krishani grumbled, more to himself than to Mallorn, but he wondered where she was after the battle. He didn’t want to berate her for what happened, but sparring with her might make him feel better. She was the reason he went to Kaliel that fateful night. It was a wonder she had to intervene. He shouldn’t have trusted Istar in the first place.
“Kuruny is more human than you are,” Mallorn said.
Krishani scoffed. “Istar isn’t human.”
Mallorn let out a slow breath as he wrapped the scrolls in the cloths and secured them with twine. He pulled a large bag out of the chest and began filling it. “Nay, but Atara isn’t their mother.”
Krishani gritted his teeth. He didn’t want to talk about Istar. The more faults the Lord of Avristar had the more he wondered how he ever came to respect him. “There are things inside the house I need to take with me.” He climbed out of the cellar.
“Be sure to bring the bread!” Mallorn called after him.
Krishani entered through the front door and went to Kaliel’s old room. The box was on the end table. He seized it and paused. The end table had three drawers. Pulling them open he found the only other belonging she cherished—her journal. His hands fretted over the leather-bound parchment. He wouldn’t read it. He sat on the bed and felt her energy. It was strong. He went to the kitchen to find the bread. When he emerged from the cabin moments later Mallorn stood on the mound with two bags fully packed. Krishani held up the bread, the box and journal in his other hand. Mallorn wrapped the bread and found a place for it at the top of the bag. Krishani stuffed the box and journal into the top of the other bag and drew the strings.
“I took these from Talanisdir. Very good for traveling.” Mallorn slung the bag over his shoulder and secured the strap along his mid section. Krishani copied him. “Do you need any of your affects from Orlondir?”
He shook his head. “I’ll manage.”
Mallorn gave him a wayward glance and took towards the lake. He avoided the unnatural path, forming his own through the trees. Krishani brushed his hand along the trunks, remembering how Kaliel could talk to them. Crippling sadness seeped into him as they trekked across the land. Even the heaviness of the bag on his back didn’t burden him so much as the thought of her. He tried to push the thought of the Ferryman out of his mind. Mallorn was taking him to Elwen Tavesin. Beyond that he had no idea of the old man’s intentions. It seemed unfair Mallorn would be able to return to Avristar whenever he wanted, while Krishani would have to resolve his differences both with Lord Istar and Avristar herself before being permitted to live in the paradise he had known all his life. That is, if the life of a Ferryman didn’t lead him to his death before then. He smiled. At the very least Kuruny said this path was self-destruction, and of the multitude of ways he could end his life, this seemed like an honorable one. He glanced at his hand as Mallorn descended the mound and skidded towards the boat. The woman with the pearly eyes stared at him as he shuffled along the grass.
Mallorn heaved the bag into the boat. “Come, there isn’t much time. The gargoyles will be stone by dawn.”
Krishani frowned until the gargoyle scrambled up the hill. Its skin was gray like the stone it’d soon become, wrinkled and ghastly. Sharp teeth protruded from its mouth while clawed hands and feet scraped along the ground. Thick grayish black wings that reminded him of bats rose from its back. Without words the gargoyle seemed to understand what they wanted. Gargoyles had provided transport to and from Avristar forever. It was their duty to protect the island. It climbed into the boat, situating itself at the helm. Krishani let his bag slide to the floor and watched as Mallorn loaded it into the boat. Mallorn grasped the gargoyle’s hand and stepped in. The gargoyle extended his hand for Krishani and he instinctively reached out with the infected one. The black marks crept into the palm of his hand, wisps of it meeting in the center, creating an inky uneven circle.
The creature didn’t notice as Krishani clumsily clamored into the boat. He turned and looked at the shore, his breath catching in his throat.
He realized what Kaliel had seen in her
dream.
He imagined her form pulling away from the trees and stumbling down the hill, green eyes scared and sad for him all in the same instance.
This moment was inevitable.
He could never stay.
The gargoyle pushed off from the shores and the boat drifted into the lake. Her form faded as the island of Avristar grew smaller in the distance.
Krishani closed his eyes, but Mallorn cried out and interrupted his train of thought. He turned and his eyes went wide with shock.
“What are you doing here?” Mallorn demanded.
Pux cowered in the boat, shaking his head. “I wanted to know where Krishani was!” The feorn’s body stretched across two benches in the center of the long canoe-style boat. Krishani looked at him awestruck, unsure if he was dreaming or not.
“The Lands of Men are not a place for your kind,” Mallorn spat. He glanced at the lake like he was measuring when the mists would cover them.
“I thought you were still in Orlondir?” Pux said, his attention on Krishani.
Krishani put a hand to his face. He wasn’t angry Pux was there, if anything it was comforting. Kaliel never spoke at length about the feorn and part of him wanted to know what she had been like in Evennses. He dropped his hand. “I had to flee.”
“Because Lord Istar is angry with you,” Pux said.
“Aye.”
“Where are you going?” Pux pushed himself onto one of the two benches. He glanced at the lake and flinched. His eyes widened. “Wait. You’re leaving now?”
“You fool! You must return to Avristar,” Mallorn hissed.
Mists curled around the boat and they glided into the fog. Pux took a deep breath and hunched his shoulders up. “At least tell me where you’re going.”
Krishani peered through the mists. “The Lands of Men.” He turned to the feorn, watching his shoulders shake. Pux clenched his fist, squeezed his eyes shut, opened them again, closed them again. After long moments of trying and failing, the feorn let out an exasperated breath and turned to Mallorn.
“I can’t transport.”
Mallorn didn’t answer right away. “The Lands of Men are dangerous.” He drew a deep breath. “Stay close to us.”
• • •
“Aye,” Pux whispered. He feared too many things at once, the soft rocking of the boat, the lake, the Lands of Men. He never intended to leave Avristar. He tried to look at Krishani, but the Ferryman was staring at the mists, lost in his own thoughts.
“When are you returning to Avristar?” Pux tried.
“Krishani is not returning. He cannot,” Mallorn said.
Pux cringed. He thought of the forests in Evennses as hard as he could, but no matter what he tried, he couldn’t transport himself to their enchanted beauty. He crossed his arms and tried to ward off the feelings of dread. The Great Oak was clear he was destined for nothing but nothingness. As much as it pained him, he wanted to go home, even if Kaliel wouldn’t be there.
A cool breeze rocked the boat, and Pux shuddered. His teeth chattered as he rubbed his hairy shoulders. He looked at the mists, then at his bare feet and his knee-length breeches. All he had was a simple vest. He hated the lack of clothing. He continued shivering as the mists curled around the boat. Krishani hadn’t moved an inch. He stood like a stone pillar at the helm, staring into the nothingness around them. Pux almost wished he himself was nothingness. His lungs wheezed and a cough erupted from his chest. He thought it was over, but a moment later he continued hacking and coughing until he was almost gagging from the reflex. He covered his mouth but it was no use. Hi stomach heaved in irrational fits as he realized he really couldn’t return to Avristar. The Lands of Men were dangerous and he wasn’t strong at all. He felt seasick and leaned over the side of the boat. There was a sound behind him, and he turned to find a hand breeching the mists. It was Mallorn, handing him a blanket. Pux wrapped it around his shoulders, trying to keep in the warmth.
“We will be there soon,” Mallorn said as the thickest mists covered the boat.
Pux heard Krishani turn from his post and thought he sat down on the bench in front of him. In the white blindness it was hard to tell who was doing what. He sat there facing the Ferryman and tried not to think about what they were leaving behind.
A life that was once perfect.
A place that was broken.
* * *
12 - Terra
Krishani looked at the white mist in front of his eyes. It messed with his perception. On the one hand the mists were like limbo—murky and painful—on the other, these mists were the gateway to the Land of Men, and when they cleared, Avristar would be a distant memory. If the men hadn’t dropped Krishani in Avristar the words of the Great Oak would have never come true. He wouldn’t have had to surrender at all, but he never would have met her, or fell in love with her, or known her. Somehow not knowing Kaliel was worse than loving her and losing her. The stabbing pain of the Great Oak’s words still lived in his heart. Wither in desolate loneliness and bring the forests to their eternal slumber. Triumph in faithful patience and bring the forests to their endless summer. He had no patience for the path of the Ferryman, but he had to give the Tavesins the chance to explain. Why had they taken him to Avristar? Why conceal his identity and pass him off as a Child of Avristar? He thoroughly appreciated the twist of fate, but if they knew the reason for his return, they might think they made a grave mistake.
The mists began to fade as the boat drifted into unruly water, shaking tumultuously. Krishani shuddered as a gust of wind stung his cheeks. The mists lifted into the air, revealing black water around them, thick as tar. He heaved a sigh of regret. The last rays of sunset rested in the west behind them. It lit up Pux’s mangled features. The feorn had his head down and was trying to curl himself into a ball.
“I see the shore,” Mallorn called.
Krishani stood. Sure enough he could see the banks of the island ahead of them, trees leading into a thick forest. Mallorn turned, but Krishani realized he should get the bag, so he did and slung it over his shoulder.
Pux kept the blanket wrapped around him. “How are we traveling?”
“By foot,” Mallorn said with a note of sourness in his tone.
The shore grew closer, and the boat landed in the rocks. Mallorn was the first out, splashing into the ankle-deep water and trekking over the boulders to the grassy shore. He climbed up first with his heavy bag and glanced back. Pux and Krishani trailed along behind him.
Pux reluctantly rose from the boat and stepped into the rocks. He pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders and tugged it up as it graced the surface of the water. He stumbled over his own feet as he grasped Mallorn’s hand and joined him on the grass.
Krishani followed, but he clumsily stepped across the rocks and dug his hands into the ground as he pulled himself ashore. Gouging pain struck his chest as his knees hit the land. He pressed his forehead to the grass, breathing steadily as tremors of ice washed over him. Terra was dead, empty. He took it for granted—whispers in the wind, dull hums in the forests, cackles in the fire. Avristar was alive, every rock, tree and flower full of her spirit. Terra wasn’t like that. The grass was just grass, the trees silent, the rocks ominous. Terra reminded Krishani of the dead bodies he had seen in dreams; frozen empty shells.
Every tree in Avristar knew who Kaliel was.
Krishani pressed his palms into the grass and tried to feel for some kind of heartbeat, something to tell him the land was alive, he was wrong. There was a hand on his shoulder.
“You won’t find it,” Mallorn said.
Krishani choked in a breath of the toxic air and pushed himself to his feet. Pux stared at the sea as the gargoyle pushed off the rocks and the boat faded into the mists. Above the swirling wisps of smoky fog the sun finished setting.
“How will I go home?” Pux asked.
Mallorn’s face hardened. He glanced at the trees of the foreboding forests and stalked towards them without an answer. “Nightfall come
s. We should be on our way.”
Krishani hung his head and grabbed the bag. He fit the strap across his mid section and nodded at Pux to go ahead of him. He only took one glance back at the lake. If he lingered any longer on the shores he would likely dive into the black water and swim to his undoing.
They skipped over the awkward jagged rocks between the trees, treaded over solid plateaus and crept through tall grasses in the meadows. The jaunt was exhausting and if the land wasn’t emotionally treacherous, it was physically treacherous.
Pux slipped and slammed his knee into a rock. He cried out and Mallorn glanced at him as a bird flapped away from the trees. It was no secret there were wild animals in the woods, creatures that wouldn’t understand the finely-tuned energy patterns of the ancient elven warrior and his companions. Pux grumbled something unintelligible as Krishani pulled him up by the elbow.
Pux shook his head. “I don’t like these lands either.”
Krishani looked away at a group of thin birch trees. He was too lost in his own thoughts to speak to him. “Aye.” He pushed the feorn forward and continued moving across the land.
• • •
Mallorn fervently continued into the forests. He didn’t bother to stop for water or bread. His lungs begged for rest, but the burning pain made him feel alive. He was still partially injured from the blade that had cut into his lower back, but he stifled that wound with the promise the enemy would be brought to his knees. It was one of the only comforts he had now that Avristar was in the throes of chaos due to a lord of the Valtanyana. Crestaos wasn’t the only lord, but he was one of the most powerful of those ancient beasts. When Talanisdir was at the mercy of the Valtanyana it had been a woman named Rahedra who wrought havoc and forced war. He was much younger then, and a lot more naïve. He felt triumph for the lady’s vanquishing, but never fully understood how she was defeated. Now that Crestaos had proven his return, Mallorn feared the others coming forth from the shadows of Avrigost.
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