“Ah, little White Steeds.” Novor Tur-Woodberry’s booming voice was gentle like the wind in the reeds. “You have quite a journey ahead of you. Your goal is to be swift. You must protect the treasures you carry as you travel through this world. It may seem dark now, but even as we speak, a great many creatures from the Western World have sensed the plight of the South World. They are sending help, and our numbers will increase. While we wait, we must continue onward. I will warn the White Steeds living on my land. You four must reach the fortress without meeting the Rakhai.”
“Should we go now?” Arldrine made as if to stand.
“No.” Novor Tur-Woodberry’s grave face turned into a wreath of smiles as he chuckled. Sitting back in his chair, he folded his large hands, and his eyes began to sparkle. “No, one night will not be your undoing. Besides, it is too dangerous to go now. Ask, and you shall know. Clear away the sorrow because now is the time for some entertainment.”
The room had trees again. It was wider now, and the Singing Men came in. They sat around the room as great lords in a hall of council. Novor Tur-Woodberry took his pipe out of his mouth and began to sing. His singing men hummed the bass notes as Novor Tur-Woodberry sang of the quest and the lengthy journey through hill, rock, mountain, and molehill. When he finished, Novor Tur-Woodberry put his pipe back into his mouth. He puffed away for a few minutes as the song was echoed by his Singing Men. “That is your journey. That is your song and then some.” He nodded.
Eliesmore wondered what he meant, but he did not ask. Instead, he listened as Ellagine, now looking herself again, spoke up. “Tell me of the west.”
“The west.” Novor Tur-Woodberry's low voice rumbled comfortingly. “It is a terrible land; its beauty was destroyed when the Black Steeds took over. Alas, I do not know of any White Steeds there. Werivment is the place ‘where the rivers meet,’ and it is a haven for White Steeds. Black Steeds do not dare to enter that place, and yet White Steeds will not cross the land to go there. The waters travel swiftly out to Oceantic because the Under Water World people will not stay there either. Close to there are the Constel Heights where the Green Stone is to be dissolved. The Black Steeds keep a vigil guard, and one of the Dark Three lives there as well to keep ‘Song’ from coming true. The Cascade Mountain Range is the barrier between. You must be careful upon crossing. See that you do not trust anyone and keep the Green Stone out of sight because it will only bring more danger and trouble to you. One of the Dark Three rules in Silverslidersidell, which also holds the entrance to the Holesmoles and goes up to the foot of the outer Cascade Mountain Range. The Holesmoles is a forbidden place. There is a door above ground to enter, that looks like a thick tree. It is a whole dark underground world with many paths and few ways out. The moles and voles have long since been vanquished by tall fighting creatures that have always lived underground. You should not go near the Holesmoles if you value your life. As you know, your journey is of great peril, and you must be wise; one wrong doing may cost your lives.”
Optimistic, who had not said a word since they had entered the house of Novor Tur-Woodberry, sat up. “At least it is possible.”
“Possible?” Novor Tur-Woodberry burst into laughter at the absurd thought, rubbing his belly and shaking his head. “On the contrary, it is impossible. All the same, you go on.”
It grew quiet again. Novor Tur-Woodberry went back to smoking his pipe. The Singing Men pulled out theirs and took turns inhaling as Eliesmore and his companions absorbed what they had been told. The Singing Men lifted their voices, singing the legend of the Green Stone. When they finished the song, Novor Tur-Woodberry stood. “You look tired,” he told his guests, “come with me and rest.”
The Singing Men continued to hum as Novor Tur-Woodberry flung open two doors. Beyond the doors were two beds of twigs and leaves with blankets of moss and grass. “Come along. Come and sleep. Quite comfortable you will be.” Novor Tur-Woodberry ushered Arldrine and Ellagine into one chamber and Optimistic and Eliesmore into the other. “Sleep peacefully,” he called, “dream consistently.”
Eliesmore dropped upon his bed. He was sure he would be awake for a moment, turning over the strange events of the evening in his head. A second later he was fast asleep while music echoed through the golden house of Novor Tur-Woodberry.
20
Eliesmore
Eliesmore dreamed he was sailing on a ship shaped like a swan; its sails were white and the curves of its bow were golden. The waters he sailed on were unlike any other he’d ever seen. They came alive and parted for the ship. Waves lifted like fingers to carry him to his final resting place. Rain drifted in rainbow colors, caressing his face like soft, white feathers. They covered the ship and the water he was sailing in until petals danced everywhere he looked. Ahead he saw a shimmering curtain, shining with a light so magnificent he could barely look at it. Creatures flew around it, singing an unearthly song that sent shivers down his spine. As Eliesmore watched, the curtains seemed to be the rain itself, misted in rainbow. He leaned forward in anticipation as tears of joy streamed down his cheeks. The curtain parted. Before he could see what lay beyond, the dream faded.
At dawn, Eliesmore woke refreshed; he heard the ten little men singing in the distance, their song praising the attributes of Novor Tur-Woodberry. He sat up and glanced over at Optimistic, who was holding the Green Stone in the palm of his hand, a strange expression on his face. “What is the matter?” Eliesmore asked.
“Look.” Optimistic’s gaze did not move from the stone, and a green glow settled on his face. “I did not understand how great our journey is and the mission to dissolve this stone. It has been deemed dangerous and impossible. Yet we, ordinary people, are called to go.”
“Yes, this is true.” Eliesmore nodded, unsure what else to say.
“Some are born with power, like Idrithar and Ellagine. Some are born warriors, like Zhane and Dathiem. And then there are others like us, who do not know their real strength until they are tested and tried.”
“It is like the Heroes of Old.” Eliesmore put in. “No one knew the Five Warriors would save the Western World. Pharengon of the Jeweled Sword and his Companions were brave and stopped the civil war.”
“Along the line, someone always gave up his or her life to ensure the salvation of their world,” Optimistic finished.
“Yes.” Eliesmore scratched his head, not understanding his full meaning. “Others have already been slain, and we have not reached the fortress yet.” He fastened his sword around his waist. “We should go.”
He opened the door and saw a room filled with the golden-yellow rays of sunlight streaming in. The song the Fúlishités were singing seemed far away, but much closer were beautiful creatures. Their hair was long and as bright and bold as the light from the sun. Silvery feathers fluttered on their feet, and they wore clothes of white and blue. It seemed as if light shone through them as they moved through the air. Eliesmore gawked, enchanted; his face was warm as he observed them. They looked nothing like the creatures of the wood he'd danced with when he was young, although Iaens varied. There were three of them, and they stood still as statues when they saw Eliesmore watching them; their eyes were the only parts of their bodies that seemed alive. They motioned for him to come out because a table was set with fruit and sweet bread.
As Eliesmore sat and the strange creatures joined them, Eliesmore found he was quite curious about the ever-changing home of Novor Tur-Woodberry, his delightful food, and the entertaining guests. “Who are you?” he asked the creatures.
“We are Mermis. I am Indonesia, and these are my companions: Sletaira and Leaka. We came from the Eastern World twenty-five years ago and took up residence in the fortress of the White Steeds. We have come to visit Novor Tur-Woodberry and hear what he would say before we return.”
Her dark lashes blinked in curiosity as she stared at him, and he got the sense she had seen mysteries and knew many secrets. Eliesmore let his thoughts roam as he recalled what old tales were told to him re
garding Mermis. They hailed from a place where there was no fight between the Black Steeds and White Steeds. There was no call for hiding and sneaking through the land, always looking over a shoulder. They sat before him, an inner light shining out of their stoic faces, and Eliesmore felt his heart grow still. A gradual realization crept over him, reminding him of what he had to do, the long road ahead, and what would be chasing him. The cold hand of fear surrounded his heart, and the chill made him shudder. “What made you come here?” He reached for a sweet bread that was covered with a sticky nectar that had nuts on top of it.
Indonesia smirked, a secretive smile dancing on her face. “If you must know.” She glanced slyly at her two companions. “It was because of Cuthan the Adventurous.”
“More like Cuthan the Charmer,” Sletaira interrupted with a giggle.
Eliesmore perked up. “Wait…you knew Cuthan the Adventurous?”
“We used to live in the Eastern World,” Indonesia explained. “Before the rise of Pharengon of the Jeweled Sword and Queen Phyllis, Keeper of the Clyear of Power.”
“You are the same Mermis from the tales! How can that be?” Eliesmore dropped his bread in surprise. It rolled face down on the floor where a line of ants calmly began to clear it away.
Indonesia glanced at Sletaira and Leaka. “Should I tell him?”
Leaka nodded, hiding a smile with her hands. “I never tire of hearing the reactions.”
“Please don’t.” Sletaira rolled her eyes. “I’m tired of hearing about your father.”
Indonesia sighed, turning back to Eliesmore. The flirtatious grin was gone from her face. “Our Father told us to search for the One. At long last, we have found you.”
Optimistic burst into the room seconds later, adjusting his quiver on his back. His paused mid-stride when he saw the Mermis. “Oh, I did not know you were here,” he breathed, a welcoming smile spreading across his face.
“Optimistic.” Leaka stood, showing off her long legs. “Join us.”
“You know them?” Eliesmore glanced from the Mermis to Optimistic in confusion.
“Yes.” Optimistic sat down beside Eliesmore and began to heap his plate with fruit. “We live in the fortress together.” He turned to address Indonesia. “Did you tell him?”
“We come from the Western World,” Sletaira explained, “we are children of the great Heroes of Old.”
“More specifically?” Optimistic encouraged.
“My father, may he rest in peace, is known throughout the land as Crinte the Wise.” Indonesia bowed her head in reverence. “These are my cousins, children of Marklus the Healer, the first Watcher.”
Eliesmore’s eyes grew wide, and he stared at them dumbfounded. “But…but…how…” he sputtered. “Your fathers? That was well over 200 years ago! What were they like? How did you come be here? How old are you? I must know.”
Indonesia laughed and stood, her long, dark hair swishing behind her. “We will meet again, Eliesmore. For now, it is an honor to finally meet the One.”
Leaka and Sletaira joined her and bowed. As they did so, Ellagine and Arldrine walked into the room. A few seconds later, there was a hearty laugh, and another hidden door was thrown open. Sunlight streamed in behind Novor Tur-Woodberry and his Singing Men as they walked into the room. “Ready to go?” he called, a jolly smile spreading across his broad face.
Eliesmore stood reluctantly, wishing his conversation with the Mermis had not been interrupted. The Mermis were the first to leave, nodding at Ellagine and Arldrine and exchanging a few words with Novor Tur-Woodberry before disappearing with a brief farewell. As they ran through the door, Eliesmore saw them mount winged horses and wondered why he couldn’t fly away with them.
Ellagine led the way outside. She called, “We should go. The Rakhai will be on our trail. They have gotten a head start. By the time we reach the boundary of Novor Tur-Woodberry’s land, and enter the forest, they will be with us.”
“I have helped you,” Novor Tur-Woodberry boomed. “They will no longer be able to follow your scent on land, even though they have a general idea of where you are going. I will hurry them into the forest, which is a three-day journey from here. As long as you are on my land, you will be safe. I must warn the inhabitants though that they are passing through; the time has come to flee.”
“Thank you,” Ellagine replied as the others gathered around to give their thanks and farewells.
Novor Tur-Woodberry laughed. “Maybe if all goes well we shall meet again? Eh? Go out, and do not fail.”
The four took off and headed towards the thick forest while Novor Tur-Woodberry waved until they were little more than a blur among the grassland and he was a tree in the distance.
The land seemed different; it was no longer brilliant and growing, or maybe the magical effect was lost as warnings of darkness took hold. As Eliesmore ran, he thought he heard the cry of the Rakhai in the distance, and a profound foreboding overtook him. Even in the safety Novor Tur-Woodberry’s land, he thought he saw a dark mass to the north, racing ahead of them to the forest. Once again, the Rakhai were going to catch up with him. Horrors twisted through Eliesmore’s mind. The Rakhai held the power of the Great-Black-Evil, and their destiny was to destroy him and the Green Stone. Already they were succeeding, less than a hundred White Steeds were left, and Eliesmore dared not think of what would happen should he fail. Precious memories rose before him: nights spent dancing with the creatures of the wood, listening to his mother tell him stories of Heroes of Old, and laughing in the rain while she spun him round and round. He recalled the glorious sights he beheld in the forests of Shimla and the songs the Iaen brought forth on their clever tongues. He remembered being young when the world was still bright, and he had no knowledge of good and evil. Those times were not to be anymore because the woods held the silence of a forgotten place. Those who sang and danced had been destroyed.
Eliesmore knew his mission was to restore not only the times they had had before, but also to bring about a better life for those who called the South World home. His mind traveled back to tales his mother would tell him. When he was little, he would sit in her lap and sometimes play with her long hair while she whispered stories. He remembered his eyes wide in awe as she told of impossible deeds, and he would ask for them again and again. The Five Warriors had set out to find the secret that the ruler, Sarhorr, harbored, and because of their deeds, the Western World reunited and found peace. Maybe he could be the One to complete impossible quests and bring peace to the South World. Surely the King and Queen of the Land had a purpose, and they would not forsake the South World. Yet Eliesmore could not remember any story being so dark; the terror the Rakhai brought surpassed all he had heard.
Eliesmore glanced over at Optimistic, and his heart relaxed. Optimistic would be there, his voice encouraging him every step of the way. After all, he was the Keeper of the Green Stone. Fear did not fill his heart; only hope looked out from his eyes. He turned his eyes from the blond Cron and looked at Ellagine, his first friend. Her long, transparent hair streamed out gold behind her, and for the first time, Eliesmore realized she carried no visible weapon. He knew she held power; would it be enough? He glanced at Arldrine, careful to only look at her face. She was sure and steady, always moving onward yet harking to any knowledge that was brought to her. Eliesmore was grateful his companions were with him; his worst fear was being alone in the heart of evil.
Only when night fell, did they stop for the last meal and to sleep. Eliesmore felt restless all night long, knowing the Rakhai were not far away and already were devising a plan. He felt a deep dread of the boundary line forest. Nothing good could happen there.
In the morning, the air was foggy, and Eliesmore found hoof prints in the soft ground. The Rakhai had been circling them, and for a moment, he thought he saw dark shapes. He closed his eyes, breathing in and out to calm his mind before standing up. His clothes were wet and clammy and clung to him. He pulled out his sword and moved forward, the jewels sparkling vag
uely in the fog. The dark shapes were there no longer; maybe he had imagined them. Eliesmore put his sword away, his hands trembling. He took a deep breath and turned back to where his friends were sleeping only to find Ellagine awake and watching.
The day passed in a haze, although the fog was not thick enough to block their passage. Often, they stepped in deep hoof prints, and although they did not intend to follow them, the hoof prints were going the same way. A meeting would be inevitable. The knowledge they were on Novor Tur-Woodberry’s land could not keep fear out of Eliesmore's heart; even the fact that the Rakhai were obeying the law of the land and waiting until the boundary line forest did not calm him.
By afternoon, the sun had dried the fog, and a thick, dark line of the trees could plainly be seen. Eliesmore kept his head down, watching the ground under his swift feet and not the blurred line. When they stopped for the night, Eliesmore drew alongside Ellagine. “Is there another way? Do we have to go through that horrible forest?”
“No,” Ellagine whispered. “I’m afraid not. We have to get to the fortress as quickly as possible. The woods are long and wide; the quickest way is through them.”
Eliesmore’s shoulders dropped. He was resigned to whatever would happen in the woods. Even as he watched, he realized why. The Rakhai dared not attack them while they were safe on the land of Novor Tur-Woodberry because they would be in danger of their lives. The words of Novor Tur-Woodberry were law, and everyone on his land had to obey his words. His land was a safe haven, and although the Iaen had tried to do the same with Shimla, their power was not strong enough. In the boundary line forest, there was no law; the Rakhai could do what they liked without reserve.
In the morning, the four got up and began their last run through the land of Novor Tur-Woodberry. The forest beckoned to them, looming tall and powerful with every step they took. The thick oak and pine trees stood tall and forbidding, dripping with evil. Enormous evergreen trees appeared black rather than green with their multitude of permanent leaves. Eliesmore did not turn back; they were going through because they had to. Fear stilled his heart. It was on to the boundary line forest.
The Complete Four Worlds Series Page 75