Eliesmore
“A storm will come, we have seven days,” Ellagine said to Idrithar as the company walked toward the river.
“Load the boats,” Idrithar ordered. “We leave now.”
“Has anyone seen Dathiem and Glashar? I can’t find them.” Arldrine pushed the boats, one by one, into the river. She gave the waterfall a quick glance as she worked, as if it would answer her question.
Visra gave a high-pitched, screeching laugh. “Let’s leave them behind.”
“Visra,” Arldrine scolded her.
“Do we have to leave today?” Wekin groaned, dragging his pack across the ground. “I wanted to go on one last hunt for bacon. Do they even have bacon in the west?”
“Wekin, spare us your laments regarding food,” Idrithar warned him. “If you would like to return to the fortress, the Mermis will prepare a meal fit for a hero.”
“Never,” Wekin replied. “They are beautiful but boring; they don’t believe in excitement the way us Crons do.”
Yamier nodded in agreement. “After all of this traveling, how could we return to living in the fortress?”
“Ah, look,” Optimistic interrupted. “Here they come.”
Dathiem and Glashar strode down the hillside as if they had been with the company all along. Their faces were slightly flushed, and Dathiem lagged behind.
“Where have you been?” Wekin shouted to them. “We haven’t seen you for days.”
“We were picking herbs by the waterfalls.” Glashar lifted a pouch bursting with greenery as if there were nothing to it.
“Just in time,” Idrithar noted. “We follow the river to the Jaded Sea. At times, it may be shallow, and we’ll have to carry the boats. We aim to reach the sea by midday.”
“Carry the boats?” Wekin leaned over to Yamier, putting a hand over his mouth to keep from being heard by Idrithar. “Did you hear Yamier? We have to carry the boats, oars, our heavy packs, the clothes on our backs, and ourselves? This is sure to bring dehydration.”
Eliesmore sighed as he walked beside Optimistic, reluctant to leave the hidden beauties of Rashla. Although their journey had been delayed two weeks, he found himself wondering if it were possible to delay even further. They’d had the chance to enjoy full bellies each night; thanks to Yamier’s cooking and the bounty the land provided. Eliesmore had the opportunity to increase his skill with the blade each day, practicing with Zhane when he took a break from building the boats. He’d finally had the time to learn more languages and lore from Ellagine, although he began to suspect she had more to tell him. Idrithar often joined their sessions, leaving them little time to talk alone.
The morning heat began to grow as they trudged along the river. Sometimes they walked in it. Other times, they carried the boats over small stints of grasslands. As Idrithar said, they reached the Jaded Sea by midday, and Eliesmore felt his heart swell and lift as he watched the great waves on the shore.
“The boats seem so small,” he remarked to Optimistic.
“Yes, we will make it nonetheless.” Optimistic smiled, a light in his eyes as he watched the waves. “I look forward to our crossing; there is something about the sea that calls to me.”
“How shall we ride?” Wekin called, climbing into a boat and rocking back and forth in it with glee.
“I will lead with Optimistic and Eliesmore.” Idrithar motioned to them to join him. “It might be necessary to separate Yamier and Wekin…”
“I won’t hear of it,” Wekin interrupted indignantly while Yamier stared with his mouth wide open at the nerve of Idrithar to suggest such a thing.
Idrithar pinched the bridge of his nose, weary from Wekin’s demands. “Very well then. Zhane and Dathiem can take Yamier and Wekin. Arldrine with Glashar and Ellagine. Visra?”
“I’ll fly,” she announced, sticking out her tongue at Glashar.
Glashar tilted her head away, crossing her arms and refusing to rise to Visra’s bait.
“When you grow tired, join us,” Optimistic told Visra.
Eliesmore frowned. Although Visra had done nothing to upset him as of late, he preferred not to be in close proximity to her. Particularly in a boat where they could not escape each other.
“Optimistic. My hero.” Visra snickered, winking at him. She spread her wings and flew out over the waves, shouting back to them. “I’ll scout ahead.”
“How long will it take to cross?” Eliesmore asked Idrithar as they climbed into the oblong boat. The dark bark stood out above the green waves. Eliesmore noted the symbols Wekin had carved into each leaf-shaped oar.
“We take the current leading down toward Sanga Sang,” Idrithar explained. “With luck, it will take us only five days, more or less. Without the current, it would take us closer to two weeks.”
“Weeks.” Optimistic gave a low whistle, dipping his fingers into the water. “It is lucky we have the current.”
Idrithar gave a sharp nod. “It is farther west than I would prefer. We will have to cross the mountains; that was something I was hoping to avoid.”
“Mountains,” Eliesmore whispered, enthralled.
The first day was calm. Eliesmore felt something akin to terror as the shore disappeared from view and he found himself surrounded by bright waters. Idrithar rowed, Optimistic hummed, and every now and then, Yamier and Wekin waved. They shouted and listened to their voices echo across the waters.
On the second day, they saw shapes in the distance, covered by mist. “Is that land?” Eliesmore pointed.
“Those are the great rocks that mark the beginning of the current,” Idrithar answered. “Hold tight; this will be a rough ride.”
“Aye!” Visra shouted from the top of one of the rocks; her form was little more than a dark blur. “I’ve been here since yesterday. What is taking you so long?”
Eliesmore clutched the sides of the boat as they moved in between the rocks, casting the boat into shadow. A vague roar sounded in the deep. One moment they were upright; the next, the tip of the boat pitched forward into the waves. Icy, cold water sprayed over them, causing Eliesmore to shout in surprise. He wiped it from his face with a wet hand only to find Idrithar and Optimistic both laughing.
“This is delightful.” Optimistic leaned forward, a grin splitting his face in anticipation for the next wave.
“Pull the oars in,” Idrithar shouted. “Let the current take us!”
Eliesmore could hear shouts of glee from the other boats, although the crash of the waves and the mist kept the possessors of those voices from being seen. The water slapped against the side of the boat, rocking them back and forth before spinning them in circles. Dizzy with heady elation, Eliesmore felt the tug of the Cron within him: the drive for adventure and the thrill of the unknown. Fear was pushed away as they spun through the waters. The current sped up until Eliesmore wondered if this was how it felt to fly.
Much later, when darkness fell, he heard his companions singing a boisterous, thumping song with a beat driven by the waves. Yamier and Wekin started it, and then Optimistic and Arldrine joined in. Finally, Idrithar, Zhane, and Dathiem added their lower voices until Eliesmore felt like stomping his feet and clapping his hands. This was what freedom felt like. This is what all people groups should have the opportunity to experience.
Eliesmore woke to a scream. He jerked up, causing the boat to rock. “What’s that?” he whispered in the pure darkness.
“Hush.” Eliesmore could just make out the motion of Idrithar putting a finger to his lips.
There was a splash. “Visra, let go of me,” Glashar screamed.
A strangled choke of rage echoed over the waters. “It’s not fair,” Visra screeched.
More splashing.
“What are you talking about?” Glashar snorted.
“You took everything from me, and now you think you deserve the right to be happy? It’s unfair. You should die for what you have done,” Visra screamed. There were tears in her voice. There was a great splash as if her hand struck against the water.
> “Glashar. Visra.” Ellagine hissed, her green aura lighting up the night.
Visra continued to scream, her voice drowning out Ellagine’s. “You have to pay. There are consequences for your actions.”
“You were wrong,” Glashar shot back. “Don’t you remember what you did? You got caught, and now you have to live with yourself. You were punished. You were forgiven. Let me go!”
In the green light, Eliesmore could see the two Idrains floating in the water, twisted together like seaweed as they spat and pulled each other under water in turn. Ellagine was attempting to paddle toward them, but the drag of the current was too strong.
“It’s unfair!” Visra repeated. “You broke the law; you can’t get away with it.”
“Coili. Hititer retítíh,” Ellagine demanded in Iaen.
Visra’s fists came up, slapping the water as she addressed Ellagine. “She ruined me. She judged me and took everything. How come she gets away with breaking the law?”
“Stop blaming me for your actions.” Glashar splashed a wave of water in Visra’s face. “You were out there killing people for no reason; you were headed down a dark path. Live with your actions, and stop forcing everyone to feel sorry for you.”
“That’s not what this is about.” Visra growled, launching herself toward Glashar’s neck. “You are breaking the law right now. Ellagine! Someone has to punish her!”
“Don’t you get it?” Ellagine’s voice was stern as she rose in the boat; she looked like a green statue with waves of light rolling off her stately body. “There is no law. There is no counsel nor counselors. The Idrains are gone, and the Green People are gone. There is no one left to bring judgment on our actions. Let this feud go; you are bringing nothing but pain for all of us. It doesn’t matter who’s wrong or who’s right. It is over.”
Ellagine’s words boomed through the air with finality. Arldrine leaned over the edge of the boat, reaching for Glashar, who was spinning down the current. Visra climbed out of the water like it was a bed. Her wings flapped dejectedly as she sobbed.
Eliesmore recoiled in terror when he saw she was heading toward their boat. She collapsed in a wet heap on top of Optimistic. “It’s so unfair. I will steal her happiness. I will make her pay,” she muttered darkly.
“Visra.” Optimistic’s voice was full of concern. “What’s wrong. This outburst isn’t like you. Is Glashar the only reason? Is there something else?”
Visra wiped her face and sniffled. She curled up in the bottom of the boat and dropped her head into Optimistic’s lap. He rubbed her back until her sniffles drifted away and she lay still.
“I feel terrible,” Eliesmore admitted. The green glow in the other boat was gone; a stunned silence covered the sea. “I don’t know what to say.”
“A word of advice.” Idrithar’s velvet voice covered the air like a blanket. “Stay out of it. The more opinions there are, the worse it will be. Two hundred years ago, the Green People brought civilization and laid down the law for the Idrains. They were organized with leadership, councils, rules, and punishments. Ellagine is right. There is no one to take this grievance before. If there were, perhaps her powers would be returned. It is likely Visra discovered something about her past and Glashar’s future while we were in Rashla.” Idrithar paused for a moment. “The bond between mortals and immortals has always been forbidden. After the rise of Magdela the Monrage, the Green People and Idrains shut out all contact with mortals. The world is much different, and it is hard for them to adjust.”
Eliesmore nodded, forgetting Idrithar was unable to see him in the dark. He felt the tension ripple across the water as he considered the words. The bond between a mortal and immortal was forbidden. He looked out and found his eyes seeking the green light. But it was gone.
57
Eliesmore
On the sixth day at sea, a hint of a shadow appeared in the distance. Visra flew ahead and returned shortly, buzzing above them. “Land ho!”
“Were there any signs of the Rakhai?” Idrithar asked.
“No.” Visra spun around, crouching on the boat behind Idrithar. She leaned forward. “There is something else out there.”
She had snapped back to her usual terrifying self after her odd outburst.
Eliesmore watched as the shadows blurred into trees, trees became a forest, and the sea curved into a cove. As they rowed toward the shore, Eliesmore could feel the oppression hanging heavy in the air. The air was thick, hot, and humid as he pulled his pack on his back, fastened his sword around his waist, and slogged through the water to the muddy bank. Arldrine and Visra pushed the boats back out to sea, letting their last connection to the east fade.
“Secrecy and silence will be our ally. Come.” Idrithar led the way.
They ran through the trees into a wide plain of brown grass. The dark rot of iron and burning flesh defiled the air. The pending storm hung over them like the edge of a knife, driving them into a frantic run. They could all feel it now: the fingers of death stretched over the land. Eliesmore felt each breath would smolder him; his back was wet with sweat within minutes.
At one point, a dense fog covered the sky, and a loud buzzing distracted them.
“Don’t look,” Optimistic whispered, pushing Eliesmore away from the west.
His eyes were drawn to it instead. He saw a bloated body lying in the grass with a mass of flies covering it. He scurried forward; his mind refusing to process what he had just seen.
A lone oak tree stood ahead; its thick branches were stripped of leaves. At first, Eliesmore thought great birds were on its branches, but as they drew nearer, he could see bodies strung up with rope around their necks while their clothes hung in tatters. It was evident that the vultures of the air had pecked away at them, stealing their eyes first and then eating their faces. Eliesmore blinked, feeling his eyes water at the horror of it. He knew what had happened to them as plainly as if he were there. These people had resisted until they were flogged and hung. They were kept alive until the sun and the wildlife did them in. His stomach turned. His fists clenched.
Zhane came toward him, holding out a cloth. “The air is foul; cover your face and keep your head down.”
Eliesmore watched the others wrap the cloths around their noses and mouths, leaving only their eyes. They moved through the wasteland.
“Who did this?” Eliesmore demanded, jogging to catch up with Idrithar. “Who is responsible?”
Idrithar pulled his mask down. In the distance, Eliesmore heard the neigh of a horse, and he jumped.
“It is the Dark Figure, the third Changer.” Idrithar pointed west. “The Dark Figure resides in Silversliversidell. Sidell. He roams from village to village. He seeks power and wants to set an example for the people groups by creating fear and death.”
“We think he is the head of the three Changers,” Ellagine offered, walking on the other side of Idrithar.
Eliesmore noticed the company was grouped together like a herd. Yamier and Wekin kept bumping into each other as they walked, beads of sweat dripping down their faces.
“I thought the Dark One in Daygone was the most powerful.” Eliesmore raised his eyebrows; his preconceptions once again collapsed on themselves.
“You must be careful with your assumptions,” Idrithar chastised him. “Assume nothing. Believe nothing. Changers are malicious and unpredictable. While they may act together to prevent the power of the Green Stone from being unleashed, they likely have their own plans for the fate of the world. You might ask yourself why the Dark Three are not at the Constel Heights, waiting for us.”
“Why?” Eliesmore asked.
“Why indeed.” Idrithar dropped the topic, leaving Ellagine to continue.
“You have to think bigger, Eliesmore.” Ellagine looked down at him, allowing him to see the concern in her blue eyes. “You have to think the way they do. If you had a plan to rule the world, to destroy it, and to escape from it, what would you do?”
Eliesmore closed his mouth and pulled t
he handkerchief up over his nose and mouth. He considered their words. After a short time, night fell, adding to the gloom of the air.
“Shall we stop now?” asked Wekin as he trotted along as fast as he could behind the others.
“No. I am reluctant to stop on this wide plain.” Idrithar shook his head. “We press on.”
The neigh of horses sounded again. Closer.
Eliesmore waited for the cold prick of fear to capture his heart as the thud of galloping horses grew closer. His jaw set. He clenched his fists, allowing a wave of fury to wash over him. He understood Visra’s demand and her cry over unfairness. This was their world, to be terrorized and driven from their land was not right.
“Halt,” Idrithar called, turning around and brushing past them to go back.
“What are you doing?” Wekin cried.
Dark shapes raced toward them, slowing down as they approached. “Fastshed?” Idrithar held up a ball of blue light, displaying their path.
“You’re late.” Fastshed trotted up to Idrithar.
“The Rakhai delayed us.” Idrithar glanced over the herd of nine. The expectation on his face turned into a question.
Eliesmore squinted. It was hard to tell in the dim light or if the horses were gray instead of white.
“The Dark Figure moves in Sidell,” Fastshed admitted. “We should run.”
“It would be best if we can reach the mountains in four days and pass into the Torrents Towers,” Idrithar agreed. “Let’s go with all speed.”
They fled through the barren prairie that was dotted with clouds of darkness and rotting bodies. Sunrises and sunsets faded, blood red and deep orange in shaded light. The horses ran all day and most of the night. Their flanks were coated with mud and sweat when they stopped. Eliesmore’s suspicions were confirmed in the vague light; the horses were turning gray. The uneven light played tricks on his eyes. At times, it seemed he rode on a great black stallion through a river of blood. Other times, the Jaded Sea overflowed, and he saw a wave rise like the hand of a giant, surging forward to bury him in the ground. He grasped his amulet from Ellagine, the light of Shalidir, and rubbed it between his fingers as if it could protect them.
The Complete Four Worlds Series Page 94