Heritage- Legends of Shadear

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Heritage- Legends of Shadear Page 8

by Elina Vale


  He crossed his arms and gave Shri a stare. “Whatever you’re doing, it’s likely very stupid.”

  “I didn’t ask you.”

  “You’re reckless, Shri!” Teron threw his hands into the air. “But I’d no sooner let you go alone than release a mutt into the wilderness.”

  “Watch your mouth,” Shri warned. “There’s no comparison!”

  “You’re right,” Teron chuckled. “A mutt would use its nose to find its way home.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Admit it: you’ve no idea how to get to Ironflare.”

  “And you do?”

  “I have a better idea than you do.”

  Shri considered the reality of his words. Perhaps she should bring him, after all. It would be wonderful to have Teron traveling with her. She loved his company, and he was smart enough to solve many of the problems Shri might face. On the other hand, she felt the weight of her past mistakes pushing her down. She couldn’t afford to make any more of them. She didn’t want to risk her friend’s life.

  She smiled at him. “You’ll make the traveling lighter. But this will get you into trouble. They might exile us both from the Island.”

  “They won’t,” he grimaced. “My family partially funds this place. There are some advantages of being the son of a wealthy house.”

  Teron paced around the room, the orb of light hovering above his head. Beautifully carved ornaments and figures decorated the smooth, stone walls. Small windows were round as the room itself. Shri tilted her head back and gazed up. The ceiling rose high above her, arching majestically towards the night sky. The highest point vanished somewhere into the darkness; the dim light from the magical orb didn’t reach nearly that far.

  “Look at these, Shri,” Teron said.

  Shri stood up. “We should put the light out in case someone comes looking for us."

  Teron walked slowly beside the wall, ignoring Shri’s comment. His fingers stroke the graven images. As Shri joined him, she found him studying the carved form of a ship with majestic sails and long oars. On the ship stood dozens of men and women, beams of light rising from their hands towards the sky. At the prow stood a man wearing a crown. One of his hands pointed forward, while the other held some sort of a stick.

  “What is it?” Shri wondered.

  Teron’s eyes glimmered with excitement in the blue light. “It’s a legend.” He gently stroked the figure of the king standing on the prow. “I was searching for you today. I have news for you.”

  “What news?”

  “I found something interesting,” he said, pointing at the image of the ship. “Doesn’t this look familiar to you?”

  “Not really.”

  “You haven’t seen it in the library? The fresco on the wall?”

  Shri hadn’t been in the library many times, and if she had, she had been searching for books, not staring at the walls. “No, I haven’t.”

  “Well, this same image is there. I asked senatai Admor about it, and she told me this odd tale.” Again, he caressed the carving with a peculiar reverence. “It has been told that, hundreds of years ago, a dark magic was invented, an endless fountain of energy that gave its consumers godlike abilities. It gave them the power to drink the energy of others, to take magic from other senatai.”

  “The ripping,” Shri whispered.

  Teron nodded. “The ripping. Senatai Admor didn’t tell me more. She said there was nothing more to be known about the dark magic, because all knowledge of it had been wiped from the libraries to prevent anyone from ever using it again.”

  Shri wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. “But High master Aldemar found it and brought it back.”

  Teron placed his hand on top of the carving. “There was one more thing Admor knew. She told me, the image is about a foreign king, a mighty senatai, who came to this land on a golden ship filled with warriors and magical weapons. He used some relic to defeat the dark magic.”

  “I’ve never heard this tale,” Shri said. “What was the object?”

  “No one knows.” He faced her. “It’s a story, Shri. A legend passed down from generation to generation. If there was such a thing for real, don’t you think the senatai would have tried to find it? Don’t you think Eavan would already have it?”

  “Maybe Eavan doesn’t know about it.”

  “She must know. She’s a seer. She knows more than she tells.”

  Shri sat down beside her backpack. “It’s fascinating, but... I just don’t have time for stories. My mission is to go to Ironflare. I must find a way to free my father from the dungeons, knock down the walls, and save the people before they drown under a sea of magical fire.”

  “Oh, is that all?” He dimmed the light of the orb a bit. “So, how in the name of the motherless wave maidens are we going to do that?”

  “I don’t know yet,” Shri admitted, slumping against the wall. “But we must figure it out. I can’t leave Papa to rot in the dungeons. And all those people... They’re my family! If there’s any chance that I can help, how can I not try?” Leaning her head against the wall, Shri recalled little Sibilia, who had been fatally injured by her own drunk father. She recalled Susu losing her legs, along with all hope she had of making a life for herself. She recalled Mama, who had lost her mind to a life in the Pit.

  They were all there, suffering.

  Teron drew a blanket from his backpack. Using the pack as a pillow, he covered himself and stretched out on the floor. He crossed his arms under his neck, closing his eyes while he spoke. “You’re right. I’m the thinker Shri, but you’re the decision maker. A woman of action. If it really is as you say, if the senatai of the Island will not help the people of Ironflare, it falls upon us to do it. I just can’t believe they would ignore tens of thousands of people.”

  “You think I would make something like this up?”

  “I’m not saying that. I just wonder if they might not have told you the whole story.”

  After Teron had fallen asleep, Shri lay awake for a long time, thinking about how she could ever rescue her father without the use of magic.

  CHAPTER 6

  IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL morning. Mist hovered in the fields as the sun slowly climbed higher on the sky. The beams reflected off the colorful leaves, bringing life to their warm shades. But even the most astonishing landscape couldn’t take away Shri’s anxiety. This trip was unavoidable, and it brought her face-to-face with one of her biggest fears.

  Fisherman Sambran’s home was a small cottage three miles from the Octopus. It stood on the rocks, looking so small, like one hefty storm could knock it down. But when she got closer, Shri noticed that the building was neat and well-kept. The window frames were painted white and the boards had a coat of crimson. Crafted wooden statues decorated the small herb garden. The plants were still mostly green, but many of the vines and bushes had been cut down or covered with cloth. Even on the eve of winter, someone still loved this place; it was someone’s home.

  A lump of sadness came into Shri’s throat. She wanted her own home. The Octopus was comfortable, and she felt safe there, but something had been missing.

  Love. Family.

  Shri and Teron spotted Sambran by the water’s edge. The boat looked almost the same as the one she had traveled in last time. When she remembered the experience, her legs suddenly felt stiff, and it became harder to breathe. But she had to get on that boat. There was no other way to leave the island. She had survived the Gate Run; surely, she could travel on by sea. Many people who travelled with boats lived long lives. Like Sambran.

  Teron turned around when he noticed Shri lagging behind. “Are you coming?”

  “Yeah.” Pushing her fears, she nodded. “Let’s go. Looks like he is about to leave.”

  Sambran was hugging a woman on the pier. When they finished, she stepped away and started climbing the rocky path toward the house. She spotted Shri and Teron, nodded at them with a frown, and wrapped her scarf more tightly around herself.

&nbs
p; Sambran stared at them as they descended onto the wooden pier. He was a gray man, with wind-molded face and work-hardened hands. To Shri, he looked sturdy and kind. Sturdy was a good trait for a sailor.

  “Promised to take you to Glasswater,” he grumbled, taking his pipe out of his mouth. “Never discussed a second passenger.”

  Shri opened her mouth to explain, but Teron was faster. Reaching his hand out to Sambran, he said, “My name is Teron DeLureau. I’m the son of Baron DeLureau. I wish to accompany my friend Shri to Glasswater. You know that it could be dangerous for a young girl to travel alone.”

  Sambran studied him for a while, then took his hand. “Very well,” he said. “But you both need to work for me to earn the trip.”

  Teron smiled. “Not a problem, sir. We’ll do our share.”

  “You accustomed to the sea?”

  “I’ve been on a boat before,” Shri whispered, avoiding eye contact.

  “You look a little pale, girl,” Sambran said. “Ain’t even off dry land yet.”

  “It’s nothing,” she said, pulling herself together. “Can we help you with something before we take off?”

  “No, it’s all set. Get in then, kids.”

  Soon, the boat, the Amanda it was called, embarked on its journey. It swayed lightly, and Shri was not as terrified as she thought she would be. The sea wasn’t so threatening in broad daylight. But just in case, she kept a safe distance from the railing.

  The scent of the wind was fresh. Sunshine glimmered on the water, creating the sparkle of a thousand diamonds. Just like old Magyen in the Pit had told Shri, it was beautiful. Still, whenever the boat took a bigger swing, the lump inside Shri seemed to grow, and the nausea crept into her stomach. The farther out they traveled, the more restless she became. What if she fell into the water? She didn’t know how to swim. Sadly, she was too embarrassed to tell her companions.

  Her gloomy thoughts were cut short when Sambran started explaining their chores to them. They needed to sort the nets and help him haul in the fish. Shri wasn’t afraid of working, but she had her doubts about the son of a noble family. Despite his boasting, Teron seemed less than eager. When they got into the work, Shri realized she had been worrying for nothing. Teron hummed light tunes in his gentle vibrato while sorting the nets, and later, even while gutting the fish. His hands were fast and accurate.

  Again, Sambran lowered the anchor. He grabbed the crank and started rolling the net up. The Amanda leaned with the weight of the nets, and Shri squeezed the railing with white knuckles. Surely, the boat wouldn’t tip over, would it? Sambran’s nets were pulling in a heavy load, causing the boat to lean even more, and Shri’s heart raced wildly in her chest. She had to keep her eyes shut until she felt the boat level up again.

  Sambran directed the net over the deck, then dropped it down with a splatter. Shri and Teron opened the net as Sambran studied his catch. He observed the wiggling creatures for a while, and then pointed at one white-striped fish.

  “Get all of those. The others you can toss.”

  Working like this with Sambran was different from working in the Pit. But still, Shri felt something similar. While busy, she managed to calm her anxiety. She learned that focusing on one thing at a time, trying to do the best job she could, soothed the storm inside her mind. She forgot that her magic was faulty, just as she forgot the deep dark sea underneath her, at least for the moment.

  In the evening, Sambran set the anchor near a small island, where they docked for an evening meal. They gathered wood, piled it on the sturdy rocks by the shore, and soon a small bonfire danced in the darkening night.

  “By the look of you, I assume you’re running from that crazy school,” Sambran said. “But where you going?”

  Teron mumbled, glancing at Shri. She nodded, showing that she trusted him not to tell Sambran any more than he had to. “Someplace dangerous,” he said. “But there is something we must do.”

  “We all got things to do,” Sambran said, blowing out smoke from his pipe, “even though we don’t always want to. But if it’s important, then you do it.”

  “It is,” Shri whispered, thinking of Susu. “I made a promise to someone I love. I may have already lost her.”

  Sambran studied her for a while through the light of the flames dancing between them. “I lost someone I loved. Blamed myself for so long that I forgot how to live. You do all you can, Shri, but you don’t need to bury yourself under the weight. Do what you can with what you have, but if you fail, don’t let it stop you.” He ran his eyes over her again. “Who is she? Friend? Family?”

  “Both. In fact, I promised my whole family that I would help. Susu, Father...”

  “Shame when the child has to watch out for the parents when she’s still so young herself.”

  “Family is all that matters,” Shri said. “It doesn’t matter who’s taking care, as long as someone is.”

  “Where’d you grow up, then, that the children were taking care of their parents?”

  “In a bad place,” Shri said. “A place where everyone pulled their weight to survive, no matter what age you were.”

  “Where I’ve lived, it’s always that parents’ job to take care of the children.” Sambran stood up. “And every parent only wants their children to be happy. That’s all that matters.”

  The pain in his face was clear.

  “Was it your child you lost?” Shri asked.

  Sambran’s face scrunched. “Need to wake up early. Put the fire out, will you?”

  As night landed, they wrapped themselves in blankets and lay on the deck of the Amanda. Shri gazed at the stars, millions of bright dots above. She remembered the last time she gazed at the stars with Susu. It had been some nights before the Gate Run, some nights before Susu lost her legs to the brutality of Shea Ziragh. Shea had been a drokashai back then, nothing more. Shri knew that major injuries like Susu’s were difficult to heal, especially with only Rilda’s remedies and herbs. But she had promised to help. She had promised to get a senatai to heal Susu, and she hadn’t. She couldn’t have done it herself; she had been so injured after the Gate Run...

  Who was she kidding? She had failed Susu. Just like she had failed Eavan and Boa.

  Thoughts ran through her head wildly, guilt burning in her heart. Angry at herself for brooding again, she sat up and looked at Teron. He slept solemnly, as did Sambran. Tossing the blankets away, she stood up and carefully walked to the gunwale, leaning her arms against the railing.

  The moon was full, and its pale light shimmered magically on the still water, reflecting a magnificent moon bridge. Now, when the sea was calm and the ship wasn’t rocking, she felt fine.

  Outwardly.

  Inside, she was a turmoil of chaos.

  She had broken the rules, escaping the island without permission. She had failed with her magic; now she had to figure out a new direction for her life. When all this was over, she couldn’t go back to Senatai Island. What would happen to the Spike, nobody could tell, but she was pretty sure she couldn’t study there either. What would happen to her? What would happen to the magic that she knew still was somewhere there inside? Could she live the rest of her life without magic, knowing that she nearly had it, but then lost it to her own fear? Would the magic just burst out one day, as Eavan suggested, and would it cause Shri destroy everything around her?

  She lost her thoughts when something broke the surface of the water. It was big, but before Shri could see what is was, it dove under again. Only the outward-growing rings were to be seen, breaking the moon bridge and slowly withering away. She kept her eyes fixed on the surface, imagining all the horrid creatures that lived under the water, all the huge beasts from Merrilon’s tales. What swam under the surface, no one knew.

  Shri was startled by a face emerging from the depths, closer this time. She recognized the creature. It had large, almond-shaped eyes, pointy ears, and its mouth featured a row of sharp teeth. Without a doubt, it was the same type of monster she had seen back at Forb
idden Bay.

  “Hello,” Shri said with a quiet voice. She didn’t feel the lure that she had felt that day with Teron. She remembered all the stories, in which a mermaid could break a man’s neck like a twig and bite his limbs off.

  This one only observed her quietly. She had violet hair, which floated around her head like a carpet of seaweed. She gazed at Shri with curious eyes but made no threatening movements.

  “I’m Shri,” she said, pointing at herself.

  The creature continued to study her. Even with Teron’s faith in these creatures, Shri wasn’t sure she understood her words.

  The mermaid pointed at her own head and then at Shri’s.

  Shri shook her head. “I know you talk with images, but I can’t read them.”

  The creature tilted her head and looked at Shri. Then, she smiled, swimming up beside the ship’s hull. She stretched out her hand, offering her touch to Shri. Carefully, Shri leaned forward, but when her eyes found the black ocean, the fear crept into her heart again. She backed away, her hands sweaty and her heart pounding.

  So dark. Cold. Unknown.

  Perhaps it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance, or perhaps it was an invitation to drown. She couldn’t bring herself to take the risk. “I’m sorry. I... I can’t.”

  The mermaid furrowed her brow, then dove under the waves. Disappointment washed over Shri. Her fear had held her back from learning something important.

  She had little time to mourn before the creature jumped from the water and grabbed the railing with both hands. The mermaid struggled and squirmed, and Shri rushed to help her. She grabbed her arms and pulled her higher. Finally, the mermaid lifted herself on top of the railing, and Shri could see her in full form. She had a woman’s body with small, round breasts, and a flat tummy with no belly button. And, of course, she had a tail, covered with pink scales that shone in many different pearly shades in the moonlight.

  “You’re beautiful,” Shri whispered.

  The creature held out her hand again, pointing to Shri’s head. Carefully, Shri leaned closer. This was a beast. It wasn’t a human. But pushing the uneasy feelings aside, she faced the creature eye to eye. She could see her own image reflecting back in those wild eyes. The mermaid placed her hand on top of Shri’s head.

 

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