The Broken Bow

by C D Beaudin

  “You okay?” Kepp asks weakly, straining to turn toward his friend, both leaning against the hard wall.

  Saine wipes his mouth, the intense dirt and dust stinging their noses. “How well can either of us be doing?” he says, his eyes closed, dark dirt matted over his eyelids and around his eyes, making it hard to open them. He smacks his lips, their touch dry and caked with dried saliva.

  Kepp joins him in closing his eyes, the darkness welcoming.

  “Good point.” Their chins are tilted toward the hole in the ceiling of the cave, the only exit, the exit they can’t get to as the back of their heads lean against the wall. “You know, we could try it again.”

  Saine opens his eyes and stares at the elf. “Kepp, it’s not going to work.”

  “Well, at least we won’t be sitting here, wasting away in this blistering heat.”

  At this, Saine agrees, sighing. “Sure, why not.”

  They both stand, struggling and shaky. Saine walks right under the hole, feeling the bright sun beat down on him. He takes a deep breath, nodding at Kepp, who stands in front of him. Saine kneels down, and Kepp steps up onto his shoulders. Saine grunts as he struggles to stand under the weight of his friend.

  “Sh-shouldn’t you be doing this? You’re the elf.” Saine grunts, his teeth clenched as his knees shake.

  Kepp looks up at the hole. He’s not fully extended yet and is trying to keep his balance on Saine’s shoulders.

  “As much as I don’t like admitting it, you are the stronger one,” Kepp mumbles as he shakes, standing until his legs are fully extended. He runs his fingers through his growing brown hair, wiping his wet bangs away from his sweaty forehead and takes a deep breath. He nods, looking down at the slightly shaking Saine.

  “Okay! Now!” He calls down to him.

  At the cue, Saine tightens his grip on Kepp’s ankles and starts to lift him up. His eyes squeeze shut, his teeth clench and grit. His muscles tighten, and his energy pulses. He lets out a struggling, yell-like groan.

  “I’m almost there!” Kepp yells from above, and Saine can feel Kepp quaking. He reaches for the edge of the hole to pull himself out. “Almost there! Just a little bit more!”

  With Saine’s arms already completely straight, his muscles straining, in desperation he comes up with an idea.

  “Kepp! I’m going to try something. But you will only have a few seconds to grab hold of the edge.” With all his strength, and incredible concentration, Saine stands on his tiptoes, giving Kepp another few inches. His legs start trembling violently, and he falls to the ground with a thud. He groans, struggling to his knees and looks around the cave floor, letting out an angry yell.

  “No! We were so close!” He pounds the ground with his fists but stops when he hears a voice.

  “Saine! Look up!”

  His eyes grow wide as Kepp peers down at him from above.

  “We did it!”

  Saine breathes out a sigh of relief and collapses on the ground in exhaustion.

  Chapter Two

  The quiet of the night is a serenity like no other. The gentle breeze against his skin, the soft grass under one’s toes. Breathing in the mountain air. The night above is filled with billions of dazzling stars that dance in the darkness, but glow in the light of the moon. Each star is filled with souls that passed. Now they live peacefully in paradise—the Other World. The Everstar shines the brightest, almost as bright as the moon, illuminating the black sky around it.

  It’s a big star. If only it was big enough for those whose souls are broken and dead.

  But it’s not.

  The quiet serenity is spoiled by this thought, and Aradon sits up—brought back to his reality. Freezing snow under him, and his two companions huddled together to keep warm in Winter’s Pass.

  Since seeing the Wise One, they had made their way down the mountain, but now they rest in an even more dangerous place—the bottom of the valley. At any moment an avalanche could bury them alive, or they could sink into the snow. Either way, no one would ever know they’d been there.

  He sits up, resting his arm on his erect knee. His eyes are tired, and he can’t see more than ten feet in front of him due to the quiet, heavy snowfall. Beside him, Hagard and Eldowyn lie side by side, with the freezing snow only a few feet away at the small cave’s entrance, trying to be as warm as possible. He sighs.

  Have to get them up at some point.

  Aradon shakes them, resulting in them flustering awake.

  “What happened? Are we being attacked?” the elf yells. When his eyes fixate on Aradon, he groans.

  The dwarf grumbles, “No! It’s still night! Just a few more hours of sleep.” He goes to lay his head back down, but Aradon stops him.

  “There’s no time for sleep. We must get a move on to Nethess,” Aradon says, standing.

  Hagard curses under his breath, but the elf and dwarf stand, clearly resentful, and grab their weapons. Hagard stomps past Aradon, and Eldowyn gives him a tired scowl.

  Aradon scoffs. They hate me now, but they’ll thank me when we rescue Awyn.

  He takes a shaky breath at the name. He will never forgive himself for thinking she was dead, no matter how plausible it was. If they find her tortured or hurt in any way…it will be the end of him.

  Sefa already took a part of him he’ll never get back. And if Awyn dies…

  And this other thing. It’s not a romantic love. It’s not even a family or friendly love. He doesn’t know what it is. It may not even be love. But he feels something for Awyn…

  He can’t describe it. It’s protective and desperate and…ill. A love that is sick, who would have thought? But that’s the closest he can come to an explanation. It’s dying. It’s disappearing. But it was never even there to begin with.

  They aren’t friends. They aren’t family.

  But Aradon still considers her to be one. The best friend he ever had. And he doesn’t even really know her.

  I’m too broken for friends and family. For love. I don’t deserve it. But if I don’t deserve it…then why did I have it with Sefa? I fear I’ll never have a love like her again. Even if that’s the case, I know I’ll survive. But if Awyn dies. If she’s already dead…

  I’m depending on her not to be dead.

  His thoughts are interrupted by an explosion. His skin crawls with a sharpness like glass as he flies to the ground. He finds himself inside a bank, snow covering him. Hagard and Eldowyn are sprawled beside him, their faces in the snow, limp and covered in ash. Aradon squeezes his eyes to block out the stinging smoke. He coughs and rolls onto his back, covering his eyes from the bright fires that spread throughout the valley. His movements are slowed and painful. A high-pitched whine fills his ears, and his chest feels tight, his mind fogged.

  Burning flames…on snow. This-this doesn’t make any sense.

  Another explosion makes his ears painfully vibrate with the boom, then silence. A buzzing silence. The snow below turns red. His arms. They bleed with no obvious slashes, but his whole arm is coated in dripping blood.

  The metallic smell fills his nostrils, and he can feel his back start to arch. His teeth clench as a powerful surge pours through his body. Besged power fills him, and he stands up, turning toward the fires, and walks into them.

  The fire doesn’t burn him, in fact he doesn’t feel anything.

  This is new.

  The thought comes and goes, like a swift wind. It’s as if he can’t hold onto a thought for more than a second. He’s never felt anything like this before. He feels…one with the air.

  Through the fire he walks, until he sees the figure he knew would be there.

  Revera.

  Her crimson smile sends a chill down his back, even with his newfound power. The red dress that flows behind her seems to radiate heat, and yet there is no sheen of sweat on her fair skin.

  “Nice to see you again, Aradon. It’s been awhile.” She plays with him.

  “No more quips, Revera. Time to hand over Awyn and Adriel
.”

  A low chuckle comes from her. “And give you the only leverage I have in this war? Really, Aradon. It’s like you’ve completely forgotten how to negotiate.”

  Aradon’s heart is hard. “I haven’t forgotten, I just refuse to negotiate with the likes of you!”

  Revera’s face turns mock with hurt. “Oh, now, you are going to break my heart.” Her eyes are sly and evil, and Aradon can barely contain himself from ripping her throat out.

  “If only you had a heart to break, Revera.” He takes a breath. “The world would be safer for it.” Then something changes on her face that Aradon never expected. Sadness.

  “I used to.” She’s silent for a moment, and he watches as her face turns stony. “But then I learned that having a heart weakens people. So now mine only pumps blood.” Her raspy voice turns angry, spitting out the last two words through gritted teeth.

  “It’s funny. Hating you would be a waste of my time. No. I pity you.”

  Revera’s eyes blaze at this remark.

  “I will not be pitied by the likes of you! I will destroy everything you love and watch as you burn in your own sorrow.” The screaming statement shouldn’t scare him, he knows this, but he let that stupid girl, the elf, the dwarf—even that blond-haired fool of a warrior—into his heart, and now he’s paying for it.

  “Just try, Revera. Because as long as there is breath in my lungs, I will not stop until every inch of evil is wiped away from this world.”

  Then something happens he wasn’t expecting—she smiles.

  His brow furrows in surprise as wary confusion overtakes him.

  “Then I suppose you’ll have to die as well.” She goes to turn away from him.

  “Revera!”

  She stops when he calls her name and turns to him.

  “Next time you try to kill us, maybe do it when we’re sleeping.”

  A mockingly gracious smile appears on her face.

  “Thank you for the advice, Aradon.” She tilts her head, and for a moment he thinks he’s looking at Awyn. “I’d be careful with that power of yours, Besged. Don’t rip your world apart.” She turns her back to him, and flings over her shoulder, “You’ll regret it.”

  She disappears into the dying flames, and then in turn, the fire disappears as well.

  Aradon inhales and feels his body return to normal. Now, he can feel every cold flake of snow on his face, every brush of chilling wind—and every sorrow that disappeared for a few precious moments.

  He walks back to where Eldowyn and Hagard lie in the snow, half-buried. He yanks them out by their collars, ash and snow falling off them, and pushes them over onto their backs.

  They wake up, ruffled and shaken, both coughing harshly, puffs of smoke and ash coming from their mouths. Hagard brushes soot from his thick beard, picking a chunk of frozen snow from his mustache.

  “Wha ‘appened this time? I feel like I’ve been struck by a star,” says the dwarf, rolling around, trying to sit his portly figure upright.

  “Revera paid a visit,” says Aradon tersely.

  Eldowyn stares intently at Aradon, trying to read him. Aradon can almost see beads of sweat on the elf’s furrowed brow.

  Aradon groans, wondering when the elf will ever stop trying to dig around inside his thoughts. “Eldowyn! It’s not going to happen.”

  The elf relaxes, clearly not enjoying defeat. He crosses his arms, leaning against a pile of hardening snow.

  “At least now I know why I couldn’t read Awyn—the daughter of Raea. I understand not being able to read Adriel, she doesn’t have a drop of human blood in her. But…why wouldn’t Raea just tell me I have another sister?” Eldowyn rants, but he seems to be talking more to himself than the two of them.

  Aradon notices his friend sounds angrier toward Awyn, than Raea, even if he aims his frustrations toward his mother.

  “You have no right to be angry at Awyn. How was she to know?” Aradon exclaims.

  Eldowyn looks at him like the answer should be obvious.

  Aradon thinks for a moment and his eyebrows raise. “You cannot seriously mean her ears?”

  “They are elf ears. They looked so funny to me because I thought she was human, but now it makes total sense. Sure, they aren’t as pointed as a pure-blooded elf…but she has no scars, and her resemblance to Revera…” He huffs. “If only she had thought to notice.” With that comment, Eldowyn finds himself against the base of the nearest rock face, Aradon’s hand around his throat, holding him at least a foot off the ground.

  The elf grasps Aradon’s wrists, but they won’t budge. Being an elf usually means they’re stronger and faster, but a Besged like himself is far more superior in strength, other than the fact they aren’t immortal.

  “A-Aradon. Now, j-just hold on. I didn’t mean it like that.” Eldowyn strains to talk as Aradon’s fingers crush his throat. “Aradon.”

  Hagard looks up at the exchange, eyes widening.

  “Oi! Laddie! Let da fool go. He didn’t mean it.” Hagard looks up at his friend.

  Aradon sighs, huffing, letting the elf fall to the ground.

  “Don’t talk about your sister like that. It’s demeaning, and if she heard that, knowing you’re her brother, well…you’d break her heart.” He shakes in rage. He’s more connected to her than he once thought… I just don’t know why.

  Eldowyn looks at the dwarf, a blond eyebrow raised. “Fool?”

  Hagard shrugs. “Eh, it just slipped out.”

  The gray morning is cold and icy as they trek through Winter’s Pass. No snow falls, but it’s still too uneven to call the Everbreeds. The sky holds no clouds, a good sign for the day. Maybe they’ll make it out of the valley without another storm, or at least today.

  Aradon moves a little way ahead of the others. He doesn’t feel like being around Eldowyn at the moment, in the back of his mind he’s still angry about what that elf said. It had been hard for him to watch Awyn being slandered like that. He’s not exactly sure why he hated it to the point of attacking his friend.

  But he does know one thing.

  He’s had this feeling before. The feeling of uncaring, pure and violent rage. But he can’t remember why.

  Behind him, Hagard and Eldowyn talk about the same thing.

  “Why would ya get angry over ears?” Hagard asks as he walks beside Eldowyn.

  “I’m not mad about the ears, Hagard. I’m upset because my mother never told me of Awyn, because my brother is probably locked up in some terrible cell, and because I can’t understand why Raea would choose to abandon another child!” The emotions clearly run high as he says this. He takes a deep, exasperated breath.

  “P’haps, elf boy, she didn’t want to cause any more harm den she already had.” Hagard tries to assure the elf.

  Eldowyn sounds grateful as he says, “Thank you, Hagard.”

  A rumble of the dwarf’s laugh sounds behind Aradon.

  “Yer welcome, elf. Ye now owe me a tankard.” He growls happily—the next time they’re in a tavern, he won’t have to buy his own liquor.

  As afternoon comes, so does the snow. Clouds had gathered during the late morning, thick and gray, and the snow falls heavily from them. The snowfall, not quite a blizzard, makes them stagger in the growing height of the banks. They cover their faces with their cloaks, trying to shield themselves from the cold.

  Their feet drag heavily through the snow, barely able to lift their boots as they trudge through the knee-deep powder. Or, in Hagard’s case, waist high.

  The dwarf takes another step and lets out a startled sound.

  The elf and Aradon turn to see their friend’s frozen black hair sprawled over the snow. He obviously wasn’t expecting to fall deep into the snow, the white powder as high as his nose.

  Hagard grunts. “Oi! Get me outta here dis instant!”

  The muffled yell makes them chuckle. They dig into the snow, each grabbing a cold arm, and pull him out, so he’s sitting on his rump. A sneeze leaves the dwarf’s round nose. And anothe
r one. And another.

  “Okay, let’s get a fire going. You just have to take drastic measures to rest, don’t you, Hagard?” Aradon jokes as he goes off to try to find any kind of wood.

  The dwarf wipes his nose.

  “Yes, laddie. I fell into freezing snow so dat I could get a cold, so I didn’t have to keep on walkin’. I’m a secret genius.” Another sneeze.

  Eldowyn chuckles.

  “Right, let’s just get you out of there.” Eldowyn helps the frozen Hagard up. “Let’s see if we can find some kindling.”

  The snow finally stops, and the night sets, the stars dancing across the great infinity above them. The moon is almost full, maybe another week. It’s been hard for Aradon to keep track of the time since they lost Awyn after the Battle of Mera. After he killed the evil King Tamon, they had gone out to the fields. Aradon had heard the love of his life’s screams, but Revera had killed Sefa. Then the ground had swallowed Awyn up, and he thought she was dead too.

  But she isn’t. It’s honestly a little ironic, since Awyn had been asking for death for years and then when it finally seemed to happen, she found herself trapped in an unfamiliar world. And yet, the Tower of Nethess is probably familiar too, since Awyn was locked up for nine years.

  Ironic.

  Aradon pokes at the small, dwindling fire. He had only been able to find a few branches—and that had seemed a miracle—so he’s been snapping pieces of the stick he holds to put in the fire. The flames flicker, and when the rain starts to fall, they burn out. Rage fills Aradon, and he throws the stick harshly at the fire, yelling.

  He stands up, running his fingers through his long brown hair. His breathing is heavy, and rapid. The worry shows in his friends’ eyes for him. They know what he’s feeling. They’re worried about Awyn too. But there’s more sorrow burdening his heart than just Awyn.

  Sefa.

  Aradon shakes slightly, and he feels worse as the rain falls more heavily, making his hair freeze in the cold. He sits back down, ultimately giving up the fight, at least for tonight. He lets the cold air and the rain wash over him, making every inch of him freeze in ice and anguish.