by BJ Hanlon
The thumping of his feet and the buzzing of gnats were monotonous drones on his mind. The flat land, interspersed with the husks of bushes, old, crumpled farmhouses, and barns were equally as monotonous.
He checked each one if it was close enough.
In one, a tall, red building with a dank, cool cellar, Edin found a few rotted vegetables and a can of pickled mushrooms that were spicy. They had a veritable feast.
After the meal, they kept walking; a little happier than before.
South and west, he kept thinking. They went that way, or something approximating it. He knew there were port cities on the coast of the Mirasa Sea. Dunbilston held quite a few small towns.
In Resholt, there was Calerrat, the capital city of his home state. The state he’d left nearly a year ago. It felt as if he needed to get back. Like the trek to the south and west was meant to take him there.
Could he even cross the border?
There was the southern forests below the Great Cliffs. A wide swath of land called the Forest of Dorr. Edin always thought it was spelt like the actual portals into a house, though it wasn’t, but it was a no-go zone. A buffer between the states so that the soldiers stationed on either side wouldn’t meet up at some confused place and begin fighting. It was part of the uneasy truce that was held by the states of man.
At least that was the given reason for the forest. There were others that said it was just as haunted as the Ghost Hollow. Maybe worse.
But to get through, they’d first have to make it there and that was becoming more and more doubtful.
The rain had stopped a day or so before but the land was still damp. The sun was barely twinkling in the west when above the droning of gnats, there came a yelp. A very soft and weak yelp.
It took a few moments for it to click in his head. Arianne.
Slowly Edin stopped, hoping he’d be able to get started again. When he turned around, he saw Arianne on her hands and knees bent over. Then she was coughing and shuddering.
Edin picked up his feet, which really didn’t rise high off the ground, and stumbled back.
Unceremoniously, he dropped to his knees a few feet away.
“Wat—” Arianne whispered. Her voice was hoarse and weak.
Water, Edin thought, his mind slowly trying to follow her words. Yeah, that was what she wanted. He didn’t have any. They were empty of water and energy. But for her.
I could summon it from the air.
Edin closed his eyes and sat on his heels. He felt the mud and rock beneath his knees and shins and knew that there was water in there. Water that would taste horrendous, but water nonetheless.
Edin reached out a hand and cupped the other.
He felt the water rolling up and out of the dirt like raindrops heading in reverse. They rose up, a whole slew of them and they made it toward his hand. Edin was thirsty too but didn’t care at that point. He brought water droplets to his hand and let them slowly descend until there was a mouthful.
Edin opened his eyes and looked at it. His hand was shaking though he could barely feel it. Arianne needed the water and quickly.
But then he saw Arianne. Lying face first on the ground her butt stuck in the air. The back of her chest moved rapidly up and down and her lips were nearly blue. Almost as if she had been stuck in freezing water for hours.
Edin wanted to move to her, to hold her. A deep yearning. A need.
He pressed his hands to the ground and tried raising a leg from a knee to a foot to stand. The leg shook violently, swaying like he was having a seizure.
Suddenly, the world swam. It was like he was seeing it through a looking glass filled with that same freezing water that turned Arianne’s lips blue.
Then the world tilted and toppled over like a three-legged chair. Or maybe it was Edin who tumbled.
The last thing he remembered seeing was the fading sunlight twinkling on something shiny.
2
The Mundane Family
Voices were around him and Edin felt warm. There were harsh voices like that of men who smoked and were ready to punch anyone who disagreed with them. Edin didn’t like it. But then another voice, softer and kinder. An older lady.
“Nona, will they ever wake?” That was a child’s voice. Young, preteen undeniably, but other than that he was unsure.
Edin couldn’t open his eyes and the warmth covered him like a thick down blanket in a great room during a howling blizzard.
“Soon child,” the old woman said, “we do not pressure them though. They will awaken on their own time.” Then Edin heard the woman whisper “maybe.”
A moment later he heard water dripping into water, the sound of a rag being rung out, then the rag was on his brow wiping him like a child. It was cool water that tugged with the warmth of the fire. The wet against the dry, the cold against the warmth.
The Blossom versus the Rage.
But it felt good. Two opposite parts that were equal and natural.
“Is he a soldier?” the kid said. The voice was difficult to know if it were a boy or a girl. He guessed a young lad. “He looks like a soldier.”
“Possibly,” the woman said.
“A deserter then,” said the gruff man. “Probably fled when he saw those,” he paused, “those things.”
“We all did, Hotep, did we not?” This was another man, the voice creaky with age. “Fleeing is instinct, I have seen it many a time.”
“We have our women to take care of and we are not warriors or soldiers. We are farmers now.”
“You certainly know your way around a hoe,” a woman said from far off.
“Melian!” Scoffed Nona. “Not in front of your nephew!”
“My son, does fleeing because you are a farmer mean you were given less courage by the gods?” the elderly man said. “Do you who stay in the fields, plowing the earth and grazing the cattle, not possess the strength of will a man of the city has?”
“I have courage, Papa. Just like you. We have a family to watch over,” the man exclaimed. He sounded shocked, appalled by even the suggestion. “These city dwellers are weak, you said yourself; soldiers from the country are better than those of the city. Besides, they hide behind walls. We do not. If you ask me that is courage.”
“You could ask me as it is my farm,” the man called Papa said. “The reason there are no walls is because I cannot afford them. If I could, I would for it provides security. Something that is needed in these troubled times.”
“And having walls does not make them any less courageous.” Nona, the mother or grandmother Edin guessed, said. “Take this lad, he does not seem to be a coward and I’d put his age at around two decades. He is scared, probably almost died many a time.”
The cloth was wrung out again, but this time he didn’t feel it on his skin.
“And this lass, she is weak, malnourished clearly and probably hasn’t eaten in many weeks.”
Arianne, Edin thought. She’s alive and somewhere around him. Edin couldn’t move, couldn’t look to see her though.
“But I see there is strength in her. How she was able to walk being as gaunt and weak as she was; I would’ve collapsed a week ago.”
“Nona,” this was another woman’s voice now one very near Edin. “May we stop talking about this? We still have two days to Valer.”
“Yes, please do,” said the woman whom Edin heard called Melian. She was farther away and Edin heard the subtle sound of feet crunching on the ground. Either sticks or stalks.
The ground was softer than dirt so he guessed it was turf. Maybe they camped in someone’s field.
“If you’re any louder, those beasts will hear us,” Nona said.
“We haven’t seen any in fifty miles,” said the man whose voice he recognized as Hotep.
“Sure, but you don’t know if they’re over the next hill or how good their hearing is. And you saw how they moved. We couldn’t outrun them again,” answered Nona.
Melina said, “Especially with these two dead weights.” There was disgust in
her voice.
“Would you feel alright with yourself if we just left them in the field then?”
“Yes mother,” said Melian. “As you say, he is a soldier. Soldiers die in the fields of battle. We’re in a field.”
“And if it were you and Hotep? What would you say then? Or better yet your nephew and sister-in-law Duria?”
“Nona,” gasped the woman above Edin. The one who had just run the cool cloth across his brow.
Edin wanted to say something, he felt weird listening to the conversation. Eaves dropping really. But he was still too weak and although his mouth was wet with water, he could also taste a bit of tomato and onion. Edin guessed he’d been somehow force fed soup.
Then, as if someone had blown out the candle at his bedside table, Edin’s mind went blank and he fell back asleep.
It was the bouncing more than the noise that woke him. He was on something soft and felt tied to it like he was back in the Baron of Coldwater’s dungeon. But the air was fresh. That was a change and he felt his lips wet and his stomach wasn’t grumbling.
Slowly, he began to remember waking up in the midst of a family conversation. When was that? Was it the night before or maybe two nights before?
Edin opened his eyes to a purple and blue and red, bruise-colored sky to the north that was crashing into a metallic gray sky to the south. The spot where they met was almost a red color. One that reminded Edin of the underworld.
“Nona, he is awake,” a child’s voice called out. Edin looked up above his head at the voice and saw a small boy with straw-colored hair beneath a straw hat. He had brown eyes and a wide nose. The eyes were curious but not afraid.
Hard to be afraid of a man tied up, Edin thought.
“Hello,” Edin croaked. It was rough and scratchy. It felt like he was getting a cold. Edin cleared his throat and the sound grated his ears.
The child was sitting between an elderly man and woman. The latter of which was looking down at him from beyond a pair of spectacles.
“Hello young lad, how are you feeling?”
“Clearly not well,” a female voice called from near his feet. “Otherwise he’d be walking and my dear sister-in-law would be on the wagon.”
“Melian, hush that tongue,” said Nona.
Edin glanced around, he saw a prairie of yellow grass that rose and fell to his left. On a hill, a ridge maybe, there was a far-off copse of trees. The field of grass was interspersed with green stems and the curled-up husks of wild ferns before they let loose their fan-like leaves.
The air was damp and felt heavy.
Then in the bottom of his vision, a woman appeared. A tall brunette with a bandana around her head pulling back her hair. She had a thin, hawkish face with a dimpled chin. She was pretty in a sort of, I’ll-seduce-you-then-castrate-you sort of way, which wasn’t pretty at all now that he thought about it.
Her look was that of disdain as their eyes met. Then she snorted and looked away. On her back was a bow and a quiver and she wore a leather jerkin that was cut off at the shoulders.
“Arianne?” Edin whispered.
“Your girl is next to you lad,” said Nona and she reached down to Edin’s right.
He hadn’t noticed her because Arianne was covered in a thick woolen blanket. Her head was looking off away from him and her hair, that partially covered her face, was damp like she’d just gotten out of the bath.
Edin tried to reach over to her and felt the tug on his chest and biceps.
He was strapped down. Strung up like a criminal. “I’m strapped,” he coughed, “can you release these?”
“We do not know you.” Melian hissed and Edin heard the sound of a thin blade being removed. “You expect us to let you free?”
“Daughter, when did you get so untrustworthy?” Came the old man’s voice.
“I’m with her, Papa,” another man said, and Edin thought he remembered the name Hotep. “Look at him, he’s clearly dangerous.”
“Young man, are you dangerous?” Now it was the old woman. Nona.
He thought about the question for a moment and then hissed out. “Very.”
The bowstring pulled and the bow creaked.
“Put those away, children. I will not have you harming people in our care. We are not mongrels from Resholt.”
“Mother, he said—”
“I know what he said.”
Edin took a deep, lung filling breath and said, “to the dematians.”
There was silence for a moment. Then the moment went further into a minute, maybe two. He moved his hand over and tried reaching for Arianne and thought he felt her hand through the large cloak that covered her.
“How is she?” Edin asked still looking at Arianne. He saw her chest rise slightly, and hair that partially covered her face fluttered in an exhale. She wasn’t as pale as he’d remembered but she didn’t look well.
“She’s ill and starved for sustenance. We have dished both of you stew but there has been little change with her. Very little. She was shivering and shuddering when we found you last night.”
Edin stared at her, his mind slowly churning and beginning to work. Did he have any mintweed in his pack? Did he even have a pack?
Then he remembered the battle and the inn burning and fleeing and that he didn’t even have a waterskin.
“Did he call those things,” There was a pause. “Dematians?” Hotep said. “Those cannot, dematians are a myth they’re—”
“What name would you like to give them then?” said the old man, “if dematians are a myth, do you then think that those were a mirage? Did your sister’s arrows take down a myth? Did those things with the glowing, murderous eyes and claws that were clearly made to rip your guts out with a swipe look like a myth?”
“Papa,” gasped the other woman, “your grandson.”
“He saw them, we all saw them.” Said Papa.
Nona sighed. “I assume you’ve seen them?” She was looking at Edin now. He noticed it out of the corner of his eye. “Young man?”
Edin took another lung full of air and nodded. The air was making him at least feel a little better.
“Have you fought them? I mean this blade seems to be nearly flawless,” the old man said patting the seat next to him. On it, Edin saw the hilt of his sword.
“Yes…” he said leaving his gaze on Mirage. “Where are we going?”
“Valer,” said Nona, “it’s the largest town near us.”
“And the only city with a child baron to protect us,” Melian said sarcastically.
“There is still a manor with a large wall, what would you have us do, hike to Alestow?”
Duria said, “What of Calerrat? They may be our enemy but—”
“We will not deal with Resholtian scum!” Papa cried.
Edin felt shivers down his body. The old man had been so calm before, this change was very off-putting.
“But my son—”
“No!” shouted the old man. “Valer is where we go. It is safe enough.”
“Do you have mintweed?” Edin asked and suddenly the rest of the people quieted. He barely heard their bickering and did not care. Before these people, he’d been walking aimlessly as well, trying to figure out where to go. South and east. Calerrat.
“Mintweed?” asked the old woman, “Why mintweed?”
Edin looked up at her. “Fever, to help break it.”
“Blankets do that lad,” said Nona.
Edin nodded. “And the mintweed tea. They work well together.”
“I told you it is used on sick people,” said Melian. “you never listen to me. Like when I said we should just leave these two.” Melian stepped up next to Edin and began rustling with a small bag near his hip. After about a minute, she pulled out the nasty tasting and smelling mintweed.
Edin almost shied away from it. But he didn’t. “You boil it.”
“When we stop tonight, we will. Okay lad.”
Edin glanced up at the bruised section of the sky where the metal and blue
collided in the red center. It was at a point further south than before.
Edin didn’t know how long until tonight, but he held what he thought was her hand through the blanket and stared.
He slept; or thought he did. His brain rumbled on with the wagon having lucid, half-thoughts, half-dreams. There were the memories of the battle, of the monks at the Monasterion de Vestorion. Edin could picture them in their peaceful home. He dreamt of their beautiful land and saw the animals all around, carnivores and herbivores and whatever the one that ate both were.
Was that even real, was the monk he called Monk real? Was Vestor real?
“The long night is upon us,” someone said, and it was the voice that roused Edin from his half-awake daydream. Or was he asleep and this a real dream?
It was then he noticed they had stopped. It was dark and he thought it was after sunset but there was still that orange glow to the west.
As he looked at it, past the metallic sky that met with the blanketing darkness, he thought of watching the sunset through the back end of a looking glass.
It was as if the light and dark were fighting each other and Edin knew that it would be the latter that would come out the victor.
Edin felt that the whole world had simply gone to bed and the blanket, one with a red, purple, and blue hem was being lowered to tuck it in.
Death was covering up life.
His rational mind did not fear it. Edin looked upon it like a farmer does a field that is to be harvested. There’d be destruction yes, the plants would be cut, they’d die, but it was all for something else. Something that would be provided sustenance.
But with the darkness he knew that the sustenance was the body of man and it would be used to feed the dematians. The demons of Yio Volor.
Then the fear came.
“So, you want us to boil this leaf?” Nona said.
Edin nodded.
“Do you mind letting me out of these straps?” Edin asked. He hoped, though with little expectation, for release.
“I’d like to,” Hotep said moving close and into view for the first time. He was a big guy, a farm boy, by the look of him, and Edin guessed that he and Henny would have great wrestling matches. Possibly championship bouts. But that was not what was happening right now.