— Chapter Four —
Uncharted Waters
Darkness. Valanandir could not seem to escape it. He had thought it was the end for him when he had seen his parents, but only darkness had followed. He felt as if he were still drowning in a sea devoid of light, sound, or touch. The vast emptiness was oppressive. Occasionally, he heard voices far off in the distance before he seemed to drift away from them once more. Even when he did hear the voices, they weren’t ones he recognized, and he couldn’t seem to make himself understand what they were saying or even what direction they were coming from. Valanandir felt a stab of loneliness and fear.
Was this what death was really like?
He didn’t know how long this went on. It seemed like forever. Each time he heard a voice, he tried to swim toward it, but it always seemed to fade away before he could get his bearings. He was exhausted from the effort. What little strength he had left was failing. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep trying.
Then he heard a new voice. Although Valanandir still didn’t recognize it, it blazed through the darkness, reaching out to him. He latched onto it as if it were a lifeline, following the sound.
It was tiring work. Even though he grasped the thread of voice tightly, it was still far away. He had to stop to rest countless times before continuing. Sometimes, the voice would stop and he would be lost once more, desperately hoping it would return. The first time this happened, he was terrified. When the voice finally resumed its indecipherable murmur, he nearly wept in relief.
As he continued his journey, the darkness seemed to loosen its grip. Although he still couldn’t make out the words, the voice became stronger. It was a woman’s voice, melodic and soothing. His mother’s? No, Valanandir still didn’t recognize the speaker, although the voice seemed to resonate with him somehow.
There was one point where Valanandir felt as if he were on the brink of understanding the words. Then the voice faded once more, leaving him to curse in frustration.
The next time the voice returned, he scrambled after it as quickly as he could. The words washed over him. It seemed like they were a language he understood.
Mela... meliar… Something about trees in a wood? Valanandir realized they were the words of a song. Although it was being sung in Elvish, it wasn’t one he recognized. It wasn’t something any Sea Elf would sing. All his people’s songs were about water and wave. Where was he? Had he finally died?
Valanandir struggled to breach the surface of the surrounding darkness. He knew he was close. His eyes were difficult to open. They felt as though they were glued shut with some sort of gummy substance.
When he did manage to crack his eyes open, he immediately wished he hadn’t. With full consciousness came an awareness of pain, making him gasp. Every part of him hurt. He snapped his unseeing eyes shut and tried to retreat into the numb cocoon of darkness.
“You’re awake,” the voice said. There was a rustle of movement. A cool, damp cloth gently bathed his face, wiping his eyelids clean.
Valanandir kept his eyes closed, hoping the voice would leave so he could slip away once more and escape the pain. But the owner of the voice didn’t move from his side, waiting with quiet patience.
Valanandir groped for the darkness, but it fled from his grasp. It was gone. For better or worse, he was awake. He forced his eyes open once more.
At first, there was only light. His eyes watered, and he had to blink several times to clear them. As he regained focus, the light faded to a tolerable level, flickering behind the shadow that was kneeling before him.
He realized he was lying down. That made sense. He must have been unconscious. His entire backside stung fiercely. He tried to move his arms, but couldn’t. He looked down and saw that he was swaddled in blankets. Having taken a basic assessment of his condition, he looked up at the figure at his side.
Her long hair fell over her shoulders and down her back in a shining wave. It was so black it had blue highlights, like the wing of a raven. She wore basic doeskin tunic and pants, which hugged her lean frame. Valanandir’s gaze moved to her face. She had the pointed ears and dusky skin of an elf, and her angular features were delicate. And her eyes… They were a deep green, deeper than Valanandir had ever seen. They looked at him with patience and compassion. For a moment, he found himself lost in them before tearing his gaze away. In short, she was the most beautiful elf he had ever seen. She was also a Wood Elf. None of the other tribes had her combination of coloring.
“Who are you?” he asked, trying to avoid her eyes. Last he had heard, the Wood Elves were in league with the drakhalu and not to be trusted.
“I am Iadrawyn.” Her voice was smooth and calm.
“Where am I? Am I a prisoner here?” Valanandir’s eyes darted, taking in his surroundings for the first time. They seemed to be in some sort of tent fashioned to look like a tree. The floor was covered by a blanket of pine needles and a fire crackled from behind the elf woman. The pungent scent of pine resin and smoke filled his nostrils.
Something was missing. Water. For the first time in his life, Valanandir couldn’t smell the salty tang of the sea. He felt a surge of panic.
“You are in a hidden shelter of mine in the forest of the Wood Elves.” Her finely arched brows furrowed. “You are not a prisoner. I have been caring for you while you were unconscious. Now that you are awake, you may leave whenever you wish. You are still quite weak though.”
“How did I get here?” Valanandir fought the rising tide of anxiety. He had never set foot on the land beyond his home isle of Arindaria. He had attacked dark creatures on the shore of the mainland from the deck of a ship, but it wasn’t the same.
“A couple of the Sea Folk carried you to shore. They asked me to care for you, so I brought you here. That was three days ago.”
“They must have saved me from the wreck…” Valanandir thought of the arms he had felt around him as he had drowned. He shivered at the thought of how close he had been to dying.
“Wait, why would you listen to the Sea Folk? Why would they even speak to you? You are not a Sea Elf. Why would you help me? Are you going to give me to the drakhalu as fodder?” Valanandir’s panic was returning, fearing some sort of trap.
Iadrawyn sighed. “The Sea Folk had no choice. They had already carried you to the mainland and I was the only one around to speak to. My people do not often wander within viewing distance of the sea. I enjoy wandering our lands, and it was the first time even I have ever ventured out from under the trees of the wood. I helped you because I knew if I did not, you would die.”
Valanandir held her deep, green gaze for several moments. Iadrawyn met his eyes without flinching. She was telling the truth. It was certainly true if she had not cared for him, he would have died.
“I’m sorry.” He felt his cheeks flush. “You saved my life. I am grateful.”
“No apology is needed. If I were in your position, I would ask the same questions.” Her face darkened. “And whatever you have heard about my people and the drakhalu is perhaps not unfounded.”
Valanandir froze. “What do you mean?”
“The day I found you, a drakhal emissary arrived in my village, telling tales of the other elf tribes plotting against us. He spoke of a potential alliance. My people decided to hear him out and consider his words. My own father…” Iadrawyn took a deep breath, visibly calming herself. “My father is on the council and voted in favor of allowing the drakhalu to speak. I was so angry, I stormed out of the village to be alone. I wandered far to avoid any followers. That is how I came to be at the edge of the forest to meet the Sea Folk.” Her hands were balled into fists on her knees.
“Your people are truly in league with the drakhalu?” Valanandir’s mouth went dry with fear.
“Not yet, but the emissary’s words were convincing. His voice is hypnotic. And his eyes…” Iadrawyn shivered. “It is difficult to look away from them. I believe many of my people have been entranced by him. I spoke against the drakhal, but
my words had no effect. They usually don’t. No one wants to believe a strange elf woman who is always wandering off to be alone.” She gave a bitter smile.
“So you don’t plan to take me back to your village.” Valanandir made his voice even, hoping she was everything she appeared to be. He wanted to trust her, badly.
“No! Even if I were alone, I don’t think I would go back to the village until after the drakhal had left. I have no doubt been labeled a possible troublemaker for speaking out against him. I planned to keep you here until you were well enough to travel. I don’t know where you would go though. My people do not build ships, and I don’t think any of your people will be coming for a visit anytime soon.”
Valanandir found himself flushing with shame for doubting her. He was also ridiculously glad she had proved herself trustworthy. It was strange. He had never felt such strong emotions so soon after meeting someone.
“My thanks for rescuing me,” he said. “Not everyone would have done as you did in these troubled times for an elf of another tribe.”
“It isn’t true what the drakhal said, is it?” Iadrawyn leaned forward. “Are your people plotting against mine?”
Now Valanandir could see she also hungered to know he could be trusted. For all she knew, she could have rescued an enemy. He admired her for holding out as long as she had before asking.
“Not to my knowledge, no. We have heard rumors of the other tribes aligning with the drakhalu, but no one plans to act on them yet. There are too many other enemies who threaten us.”
“Like the ones who attacked your ship?”
Valanandir’s mind flashed back. He no longer saw the safe surroundings of Iadrawyn’s shelter. He was back on the deck of the ship, listening to the screams of his people burning alive. The stench filled his nostrils. Nargaz swooped overhead, preparing to strike…
A hand grasped his arm, shaking him. He closed his eyes and shook his head to force away the memory and return to the present. When he opened them, he was back in the tree tent. Iadrawyn’s eyes were wide with concern. Valanandir realized he had broken out in a cold sweat.
“I’m sorry.” Iadrawyn released her grip on his arm. “That was thoughtless.”
“It’s all right.” Valanandir forced his voice steady.
“No, I should have known better than to ask so close to you waking. The Sea Folk told me it was Nargaz who attacked your ship. I can only imagine how horrible that must have been. When you’re ready to talk about it, I will listen. In the meantime, you need to eat. I have only been able to give you water these past few days.” She turned toward the fire.
For the first time, Valanandir noticed the aroma of cooked food. Although he could tell from the scent it didn’t contain ingredients he was familiar with, his mouth started to water. Iadrawyn turned toward him with a wooden bowl of soup and a carved spoon. He sat up and stirred the contents in an effort to identify them.
“Sweetroots, venison and herbs,” Iadrawyn answered his unvoiced question. “It’s not much. I carry some basics in my pack, but I don’t usually entertain guests.” She gave a wry smile.
Valanandir took an experimental taste. It was unlike anything he had eaten before. His people’s food mainly consisted of fish and sea plants. The rich flavor of the meat was strange, but pleasant. His stomach gurgled, demanding more. Abandoning the spoon, Valanandir held the bowl to his lips and drank it all down. It felt pleasant, having the warm broth slide down his throat to sit in his empty belly.
The warmth quickly spread through his limbs, making him drowsy. His eyelids became heavy. How long had it been since he had really slept? Valanandir couldn’t remember. He found himself lying down in his bed of pine needles. Iadrawyn leaned over him, settling the blankets around him and murmuring soothing words that were already fading into the distance. The sweet oblivion of sleep reached out to claim him. The last thing he saw was her face.
Light Chasers (The World of Lasniniar Book 0) Page 4