Legend of Ecta Mastrino Box Set

by B J Hanlon

  Edin found a long crate and laid on it, enjoying the sun’s warmth and the cool salt spray that leapt out every few moments.

  As the sun beat down on him, his aching body and tongue yearned for a cold frothy ale. Something to take the edge off. He wondered if there was any ale at all on board. Sailors were known for their undying thirst.

  After an hour, maybe two he entered the cabin with the determined desire to search it. Near Arianne’s bench at the back was a small ladder that delved below deck. Edin made his way down, carefully, as to not tear a stich or cause any more pain.

  Below it was tiny and cramped. To the left was a small galley barely the length of his arm. Hammocks hung limp from the ceiling and rocked with the ship. He found a barrel labeled ‘Fresh Water,’ and poured some from the spigot. Edin slurped it down. After a second drink, he wasn’t sure that was such a good idea.

  His stomach lurched and he felt himself about to lose it again.

  Edin clenched his fists and gripped the cabinet tight. He felt his body heave and tried to ignore it… to stabilize it. The feeling subsided a short while later and he was able to move again.

  He opened the cabinets and found cutlery and cooking utensils in drawers. The cabinets had jars of pickled foods, vegetables, fruits, and unsurprisingly some fish. Clear bottles held red, yellow, and white liquids. Popping them open, he took a whiff of pungent vinegars and oil. The former was wine gone bad… he thought for a moment and shook his head.

  On the opposite side of the galley were six footlockers. The first three were open and completely empty with the exception of a clean sock, a dirty dish, and a small notebook. Flipping through it, he found dates and journal entries. A few seemed almost poetic that he couldn’t bring himself to read.

  The next locker was locked. Edin jammed his sword between the top and bottom and levered it until it cracked open with a loud snap that echoed through the ship.

  As he opened it he found four black bottles with cork stoppers. Surrounding them were dirty rags. Edin grabbed a bottle. The cork popped off and he drank expecting a red or white wine.

  Instead a spiced spirit flowed down his throat. It burned and Edin coughed, splattering the drink against the back wall.

  Gin was most prevalent with the female folk in Yaultan, the men tended to drink whiskey. This was closer to the latter but didn’t taste the same.

  After another sip that he was able to hold down it settled his stomach.

  Edin took the bottle and the notebook and went back to the crate and stared at the sea. He was never one to believe the ocean just ended as some people did. Though that did bring up the question of what happened when you sailed into the dawn?

  Did the ocean go on forever? Were there more lands? More people? A place where magi could live without persecution?

  Edin took a sip of the spirits, slowly this time. It warmed his body. The small notebook, a journal, sat in his lap. Edin opened it and read the inside cover.

  ‘Read this then die.’ It was a man’s script, though Edin didn’t quite understand the meaning. Was it a threat? Or was there some sort of curse on the book that killed anyone who read it.

  Edin took another drink and shuddered again. His headache slowly retreated.

  ‘Diary of Orange K.’ He flipped a few pages toward the end. Near it he started reading. ‘I ain’t sure the day is. We’ve been out at sea for a week or so. Cap’n claims there is good fishing north the sound. He’s been working us harder than a merchant does his oxen. I don’t know if we believe him, old sea fool ain’t been the same since the incident. A part of me isn’t even sure we’re headed for fish anymore. Some of the new crew don’t look much like sailors, sellswords is more like it.’

  He flipped to the next page. ‘It’s been a week and a half, the twelfth I should think. It should be the second month of spring but we’re heading north and it’s getting colder at night. I can see my breath on watch. Cap’n hasn’t let us put the nets in despite a large school of tuna that appeared aft a pair a days ago. He says it too dangerous. It’d never been too dangerous before. Gaddy and Colton are the only real crew, only ones but me. The other men ain’t touched a rigging. They keep looking at the horizon or sitting in the cap’n’s chambers. What they be doing is bothering me.’

  ‘Thirteenth, I’d say. Slept very little, hard to remember the days. Without working the nets, the ship isn’t too complicated. Though we’re always on watch… I know we ain’t watching for fish. Gaddy and Colton say we hop ship at next port. I’m thinking they’re right.’

  ‘Fifteenth day out we spotted some land, tall land the likes I ain’t never seen. Sheer cliffs and covered in snow and cap’n is heading straight at it. The sellswords are getting excited like a teen with his first whore. The chill in the air is worse, I say we’re north of the mountains. Chunks of ice have begun floating by and crashing into the ship. It nearly stopped me heart the first time it happened. I haven’t had a great heart to begin with being up in age. Seeing that shiny black body in the distance last night didn’t help either. I think a bottle of my rum would do me good tonight.’

  Edin was growing tired despite the excitement. He eyes closed and he drifted back to sleep.

  It was night when he woke and he felt even better than before… except for being hungry now. He sat and rubbed his eyes. The night had gotten cooler though he still didn’t need a blanket or even a shirt. The full moon’s reflection rode the small black waves lifting it and the boat in a steady constant rhythm.

  He pulled himself up and grabbed the bottle. “Rum.” Edin said remembering the diary. Edin took a drink and let the warmth flow through him.

  He stood and stretched his body. His skin felt tight around the wounds but he guessed they were nearly healed.

  It was dark in the cabin with only the outside light tickling the window ledges. Arianne’s dark form, still huddled under the thin blanket. It took him a moment to see that she was in the same spot from earlier. She hadn’t moved. Her snores were gone too and he felt panic growing like flame in a drought-ridden forest.

  “Arianne,” he whispered quickly touching her head and placing a hand in front of her mouth. Her eyes rolled beneath the lids and warm breath covered his fingers.

  Edin sighed and placed a hand on her head. She was warm, but not burning. Questions began forming in his mind. How long had she slept? How long had he? Where were they now and how’d they get away?

  For now, he thought, they were safe. Edin leaned back against the bench and took a drink as he watched that moon glowing through the open window. There was a sprout of water that cut across the low moon at one point and it brought his mind back to the present. Edin blinked and closed his eyes.

  She wasn’t waking and he didn’t know what to do…

  Edin swallowed. They had to get to the Isle of Mists. It was the only option but he didn’t know where it was… where he was. Edin wasn’t sure if they were in the Crimson Ocean or the southern Mirasa Sea as Alestow had two ports.

  Then he thought about the map. North. Either they meet the continent or sail until it got cold. Either way, he’d know where he was. But that’d have to wait until morning when he knew which way north actually was.

  Edin drank from the bottle and closed his eyes again drifting in that semiconscious sleep of the troubled man he was.

  As the sun rose, Edin peeled himself up. The pain was duller in his side and he felt better.

  Arianne was still on the bench sleeping. Her breathing was quiet and slow. She’d slept for over a day. Probably more...

  He touched her shoulder. “Arianne?” he whispered, though he really wanted to shout. She made no movement. He pulled an eyelid up and saw a pale and unknowing stare as if it were made from glass.

  “Arianne.” He shook her again. “Arianne?” Nothing.

  Gods, what did he do? What could he do? He was no healer, had no idea how to do anything for her. A thought occurred to him, a memory of Master Horston. ‘A person could use all of their energy up
and possibly die.’ That was after he’d created the ethereal orb.

  Outside, the ships sails were still up but limp and they were just floating in the middle of the sea.

  He needed help, she was unconscious and he knew nothing about sailing. The wheel in front of him was twisting left and right like it had the shakes of a man recovering from a binge.

  Edin stared at the ocean in front of him and suddenly knew how move them. He remembered the wave from the pirate ship, if he could offer a constant wave that pushed them one way...

  Edin spotted a small bubble compass on the post attached to the wheel. They were facing east, into the sun. That was obvious.

  He went outside and saw a small wave poking toward them. Edin felt it and used it to push the bow north. Slowly, the boat turned as if it were a hand on a clock. Then he headed to the back of the ship and gathered his strength to push. The water flowed under and around the ship like the palm of a giant hand.

  It took a lot, but Edin propelled the ship forward. It lurched and he nearly fell. The wind tickled his hair as they headed north.

  For some reason, he felt a strong resistance to his movement. He was stumped until he saw above him the sails. They were filled, but the wrong way. They needed to drop before he could use the power fully.

  It took over an hour to drop them. There were only two and not very high, but he’d never been on a sailing vessel and had to guess.

  Sweating, he moved to the cabin, stood at the wheel and started again.

  Hours went by without stop, he kept his eyes closed with only the sound of the whipping wind past the open windows.

  Sometime past midday, he felt exhausted and curled up on the floor to pass out into the darkness.

  He woke sometime later. There was no change in Arianne, his heart sank but a need to keep going ran through him like a chill on the first cold day of autumn. She needed help and soon. “I’m trying… he whispered feeling more strength and more determination in his body.

  Again, he turned the boat north and pushed the wave into the stern. The day turned into night and he began to hear the distant crack of lightning. Edin ignored it. He pushed further than earlier growing steadily more tired and weaker.

  Edin drank briefly from the rum, it gave him a bit of energy and he continued. His hands shook at the wheel, his stomach rumbled but he stared straight into the blackening sea. Soon, the sea was barely visible as the clouds covered most of the moon.

  Large whitecaps burst in front of him, some rising nearly five feet off the rough surface. The ship however, sailed smooth as if they were gliding over a calm pond.

  He blindly moved through the night, not seeing anything and only hearing the storm. It’s pounding rain clapping against the boat.

  Later, he thought he could’ve run them aground or on a reef, possibly even into another ship. At this point, it didn’t matter. He was fading as the black clouds began to turn gray and the sea once more took shape before his eyes. The waves had died, all but the one they rode on as if it were a horse carrying them down a well-trodden road.

  Then, he blacked out.

  “Send him in.” A deep voice called out.

  The room was dark, only the palest of shadows showed the silhouette of three men. They were dressed in long black robes. Footsteps pounded across the floor. The echo of each slap gave the impression of a grand chamber.

  “You do not summon me, I summon you.”

  “In the temple, you have no power Duke,” the one on the right said.

  “You may control men dear Duke, but the gods are beyond you,” the left man said.

  Even in the shadowy room lit only from an unseen source, the duke’s presence was massive. His flowing blond hair seemed almost white, his limbs could’ve been mistaken for a hundred-year-old oak branches though his stomach would’ve been closer to a cask of wine.

  It was impossible to see the eyes, but the jaw was firm and square, and he held his head high above the three men before him.

  “I will not be talked to like this priest. Especially when your hounds allow abominations to run free on this earth. Your incompetence is the reason my son’s funeral is tomorrow and you threaten me?”

  “Your heir’s death is fortuitous,” the one on the right said.

  “It is not a threat, you lose our blessing, you lose the duchy,” the middle said, his voice cracking. “You may be able to watch over men in this world, offer them protection and relative safety. It is the gods who watch over their spirits in the afterworld. A much, much longer period. The fear of losing that can…” the man paused dramatically. “Do more damage to a man than you can with your army of spies, torturers, and other wicked people.”

  “Like his son,” the man on the right said.

  There was a low grumble from the duke’s throat, but he remained otherwise silent.

  “Do you have issue with that statement? It is perhaps better to have a smarter, more empathetic heir. Or do you wish us to support the rising voices in the west? The so-called prince.”

  “Feracrucio is a fool, but not dumb enough to attack. He is probably banging the drums to raise morale. They always do that at least once a generation…”

  “It is… possible. Duke, we are aligned in seeking out and destroying this abomination. Is that not correct, Inquisitor?”

  A darkened lump of a man appeared at the edge of the shadows. His body seemed bent and he walked with a short limp. “The Inquisitor here is stepping up the efforts since he has first learned of the two.”

  “Two?” the duke asked.

  “A young man and young woman.”

  “Since he disappeared to the sea, we have been scouring the reaches. The isles, the coasts... even searching for Seoreh.” He coughed. “I am summoning help from all of the kingdoms and taking this quest very personally.”

  “As am I.” The duke paused for a moment, his face turning toward where Edin watched. It was almost as if he could see him. “Master Inquisitor, you can have half of my fleet and whatever land troops my generals believe we can spare from the front.”

  He nodded. “Young Edin is a very strong mage and only getting stronger. If he reaches the Isle of Mists, it is probable that he destroys all that we hold dear.”

  “Then we must blockade him from reaching it.”

  “That is… easier said than done. No man can tell you where it is, no man can show you. There is a curse you could say. You must have a familiar present to allow for passage through the mists.”

  “A familiar?”

  “A person familiar with the spell. When a ship leaves the place, no one remembers where the isle is except him.” He coughed again as some spittle flew into a circle of light on the floor. It was dark in color, perhaps blood.

  “What did he do to you?” the duke asked.

  “Something that should be impossible.” His voice was low like the rumbling of the earth before it quakes.

  “So how do we stop them?”

  “We need one of our own…”

  Edin’s eyes flittered open and he looked up toward the white painted wood ceiling. A wild urge to urinate came over him. He twisted through the door and to the railing. His head swam and he collapsed to the deck after doing the business off the side of the boat.

  The clouds were being pushed away as if by a steady hand.

  Edin stared out into the ocean. For a moment he thought he glimpsed something on the horizon before it disappeared. His mind warbled and he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

  Soft waves lapped lightly against the boat and he could feel the mist of sea spray in the air.

  Edin remembered the dream… the vision. The Inquisitor recruited the church and the duke. They were conspiring to find him and Arianne.

  The word familiar popped in his head. A man who could enter Isle of Mists and get out. Ashica must be one, but they spoke of others as well.

  Edin closed his eyes and tried to silence his mind. He could smell the ocean and taste the salt on his cracked lips. There was a pe
ace out here… and a loneliness.

  Edin peeled himself from the deck and went back in. He moved closer to Arianne and rested a hand on her head. She still slept. He wondered if she somehow was back in that spell that had kept her alive for a thousand years.

  Edin sighed and looked up. Out of a window, he spotted something. A thin strip of land jutting into the sea. On top of it, he saw a tall grayish building with reflecting glass at the top.

  A lighthouse.

  13

  Now Where the Heck…

  He turned the boat’s wheel in that direction and let it slowly push toward the coast. The water didn’t always cooperate so he helped nudge it along until they were within a few feet of a small pier. Edin looked up at the lighthouse and saw no movement. On the peninsula was a path that lead toward sloping hills with giant trees that stood stoically over the water’s edge. There was no beach, just land then water.

  Edin tied up the boat and walked the pier. It was old and cracked with loose boards that nearly snapped as he stepped on them. He climbed a short rocky staircase to a door and knocked.

  There was no answer. Edin tried the door and was surprised it opened. The lighthouse was vacant with only a hard-backed couch with a ratty floral designed seat, a kitchenette, and a table. Above him, nearly thirty feet, was the ceiling. A single wooden staircase twisted around the outside of the lighthouse like a serpent until it stopped at a ladder and a trap door.

  No one lived here. That was good. The only question was how often was it visited? He went back to the boat and to Arianne. He tried to wake her again.

  With no luck and a sinking feeling, he picked her up and began carrying her up the stairs. Edin was surprised by her weight. She’d lost quite a few pounds… though he’d never tell her outright. Her face was gaunt and her eyes sunken in.