Zelia's Lost Path

by Zora Marie

  “May I?” he gestured to her head and when she did not protest, he pressed a warm hand against her forehead and the other at the back of her head.

  She could feel him reaching for her thoughts as Eleanor had done, but his abilities were different, and he swept through her mind as a gentle breeze causes a slight wave in grass. When he finished, he lowered his hands from her head. She studied his gaze. Something had shifted in the way he viewed her and she wondered what he had found.

  “Your link to Rogath is strange and the connections are raw. There are traces of Xander’s powers, but they are older.”

  “So, my dreams are my own?”

  “I cannot say for certain. He may just be using the same blood magic he uses to control your powers.”

  “Thank you for looking. May I go for a walk?”

  Erolith hesitated but nodded. “Just stay close and come here if you feel anything amiss.”

  She rose and grabbed her cloak as she left the room, leaving Erolith sitting on the edge of the bed. The snow was cold under her boots and she let the chill seep into her, numbing her. She walked between paths and came across Vainoff sitting on a short wall looking out across a field. Zelia sat beside him and followed his gaze to where Linithion played with Orvi, throwing snowballs for Orvi to melt with her fiery breath.

  “It appears your dragon has taken a liking to someone.”

  “Good, though she is not my dragon. My dragon is on an island far off the coast.”

  “Perhaps you should send Kafthry to retrieve your dragons. Orvi could use a mentor, someone of her kind, to teach her.”

  “What would people think if we brought back dragons who can be ridden? Some may take it as a sign of war.”

  “War is coming either way, it’s a matter of if we are ready for it.”

  “What if both sides are wrong? How do we know if we fight to save lives or to end them?”

  “Sometimes you don’t, sometimes you have to hope the fates make the right decision for you.”

  “Do you think we can keep the dragons safe if they come?”

  “As much as anyone can be safe anywhere in this world if Xander breaks the gateway to the dead.”

  “What will happen if the gate is broken?”

  “The dead, both good and evil will rise again. Yargo’s warriors will ride to avenge him, as will Fregnar’s guard and the Hyperian warriors, but they will not be able to stop the flow of spirits. To open the gate is to sentence everyone to death.”

  “Wouldn’t everyone be able to just come back?”

  “Yes, but it will change them. Everyone loses something when they die.”

  “Is there another way to bring back Athren for Xander? Can we provide Darkans with what they need to survive?”

  “I don’t know about the Darkans, but it is said that one can bargain with Fregnar.”

  “What do you think he’ll want?”

  Vainoff offered her a soft smile. “I don’t have all the answers.”

  “You’re just not any help then.” She returned his smile, but hers had a hit of mischief in it. “So, how would you suppose one should contact Fregnar?”

  Vainoff took a moment to reply as if debating on what answer to give her. As he pondered, she thought of the Darkans and put her face in her hands.

  “I don’t know what to do, there is no good answer.”

  “There never is. I do not feel bargaining with Fregnar would gain you anything as Athren’s soul is unlikely to be intact after all this time. Besides, I am sure Xander has already tried that path.”

  “I have to try something.”

  “Then appeal to Yargo and Zivu for their help and wisdom. And warn them of the danger to Rogath.”

  “What danger?”

  Vainoff pursed his lips, as though he had said something he shouldn’t have.

  “If they make a mistake with the blood magic, they could kill both of you, for good. That is why we will not use blood magic and why we must speak with Yargo and Zivu.”

  “I would have to go to Hyperia to do that. What if Xander tries to use me to kill them again? I can’t risk that.”

  “There may be a way to ask without having to go.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Descendants of Yargo used Lumid’s Well for generations as a place to confer with the gods.”

  “They destroyed the well when they chased Skylar’s family from the Kingdom of the Mountains.”

  “Then you must find another. The O’Fells are not the only ones to have conferred with the gods and do not ask me who, for I do not know.”

  Zelia sat silent for a moment. As long-lived as everyone was here, someone must know of others who conferred with the gods. Then a faded painting of Yargo drifted into her thoughts.

  “The dragon riders…”

  “What about them?”

  “There were paintings of Yargo, I was so used to seeing his image on Hyperia I didn’t notice, but they are too accurate for no one to have met him.”

  “Then either they have a well, or a portal lies near there.”

  “A portal?”

  “You think the bridge is the only way to and from Hyperia?”

  “No, but it takes magic to open a portal and the only magic I felt there was from the dragons.”

  Vainoff’s eyes sparkled as he smiled. “There are portals that do not need magic to use, but they are not as stable or manipulatable as the one Lumid guards.”

  “Wouldn’t they be unsafe to use then?”

  “Yes, but it has been done before. It is easier for descendants of Yargo.”

  “You’re suggesting I have Skylar go if there is not a well?”

  “I’m suggesting we let him decide.”

  “You know he would kill himself if it would help us, I won’t let him endanger his life like that.”

  “You would endanger him and everyone else by not letting him help stop all this.”

  She leaned her head against her palms and held large chunks of her dirty hair, realizing she still hadn’t taken a shower. Part of her wanted to scream that it wasn’t fair that she had to be a part of all these decisions, but she knew nothing was ever fair and breaking down wouldn’t help.

  “Fine, but would you do it, please?”

  “I will, but you are the one who will have to guide him to Dragon Island and help him find the portal if there is no well.”

  She nodded, knowing he was right.

  “We’ll need a boat and supplies.”

  “What happened to the boat you came here on?”

  “It was damaged in a storm, we barely made it back.”

  Linithion ran up and sat beside her on the wall.

  “So, what did my Father say?”

  “Linithion, you know we cannot be together. Some part of you has known that since the day we first touched.”

  Linithion let out an exasperated sigh, and her breath formed a mist that floated out over the snow-covered field. Zelia stood and brushed the snow from her clothes.

  “I’m going to go wash and then find Alrindel. Vainoff, thank you for everything.”

  22

  Zelia had not spent much time in the Drakeon Empire, but a shower was never hard to find in Elven lands. Mist rose from the warm water splashing from a small waterfall and spiraled out of the moss covered building in thin wisps. As she turned to shut the door, she noticed someone sitting in the entranceway between the inner and outer doors.

  “I wondered how long it would be before you turned up here,” Alrindel said, springing to his feet and draping his towel over his shoulder. “And you always forget a change of clothes and a towel.”

  “You know I don’t have anything—”

  Alrindel tossed her a bag.

  “You forget that you are kin and no Elven kin goes with needs unmet with
in Elven walls. Has someone helped you pop your rib back in place?”

  “Erolith did.” She broke off, wondering how to say what she needed to say. “Um, we need to talk.”

  “After you shower, you’re past due. I won’t be far.”

  “Fine,” she sighed as he closed the door behind himself.

  She picked up the towel and clothes he had left for her, moving them to the table just outside the reach of the water, then shut the inner door. The water was warm, and her hands shook, the heat begging her body to let go of the chill still clinging to her inner core. It wasn’t the cold that caused her to shiver, rather the warmth that contrasted it. As she ran her hands through her hair, she noticed the water washing over her took on a red tint. At first, she wondered where the blood had come from, then she remembered Kniteoff and how he shattered. The memory caused her powers to flare and small streams of water froze only to smash on the mossy floor and melt.

  I have to find a way to stop them.

  She forced herself to relax and let some of the tension in her shoulders drop with the help of the hot water. She washed her hair until the water ran clear and scrubbed the dirt from her nails. Then she just stood there, holding her breath as the water rushed over her face.

  Raven’s cave… the rushing water reminded her of the waterfall in front of her dragon’s cave. There was something about that place, could a well or portal be there?

  She toweled off and put on the fresh tunic and warm leggings. The clothing was different here. Instead of the gold embroidery favored in Elyluma, a delicate pattern of silver leaves decorated the edges of the green tunic. Pulling her cloak on, she stepped out into the frigid air. Alrindel was talking to some Elves nearby and excused himself when he noticed her.

  “Much better. So, what was it you wanted to talk about?”

  “I have to leave.”

  “I thought we were past that.” Alrindel furrowed his brow and his jaw quivered as he spoke, “You don’t need to leave, we’re all in this together.”

  It took her a moment to realize what she had said.

  “Wait, we are past that. I meant, we have to go to Dragon Island. We have to talk with Yargo and Zivu without Rogath knowing.”

  “Why?”

  “I…” now she was the one breaking down, “while I was underground Rogath wished for the wizards to kill me for good. It’s not like I haven’t wished the same over the years, but I never thought he would. He blocks me from seeing him, but even now he’s forcing me to feel his hatred of me.”

  “Let Vainoff and Erolith block him from you then.”

  “No. His feelings are not his own, and I’m afraid of what might happen if the connection is severed. They’re using blood magic and I don’t know what it will do.”

  Alrindel nodded. “Let’s go find Vainoff and Erolith and discuss Dragon Island.”

  She glanced past him, at the building that Erolith and Vainoff enchanted for her.

  “You go ahead, I shouldn’t chance it…” She stepped off the cleared path and onto the snow, cutting her own path to her lonely building. “We need a ship, supplies, and Skylar.”

  She turned away from him and walked across the snow towards the compact stone building. Of all the buildings, it was the least decorated and had the smallest windows.

  Orvi was still playing, her wings flinging snow every which way as she pounced back and forth. The little dragon was so preoccupied that she didn’t even notice Zelia as she slipped into the room so Orvi wouldn’t feel obligated to come in. After closing the door, she turned and found a disheveled Dwarf tending the fire while muttering to the squirrel perched on his shoulder.

  “Multly?”

  “Hm? Oh! Why, you have grown!”

  The squirrel chirped at her too, “So you’re who the trees won’t stop talking about.”

  Multly stopped and stared at his squirrel, as if she had snuck up on him. “I think she likes you.”

  “Don’t mind him,” the squirrel said, “he’s a few nuts short.” She flicked her tail.

  Zelia couldn’t help but smile at the two of them.

  “So, why did you have Dain’s pack protect Orvi?”

  Multly was mumbling to himself again and stroked his gray beard, as if trying to remember. For a moment, Zelia wondered if he had lost his mind before or after becoming a member of the Guild, but quickly shook the thought.

  “Old dwarven prophecy, a dragon born of the forge will be a friend of Dwarves. Dwarves, not old wizards.”

  “Well, that prophecy must have been lost, since Connan tried to kill Orvi before she could even leave the forge.”

  “What?!” Multly nearly scared the poor squirrel off his shoulder. “That little! He should know better, dwarven prophecies have never been wrong.”

  Zelia was about to correct him when she thought better of it. Multly muttered to himself again and picking up his staff, he left the building, leaving Zelia alone. Taken aback at how he had left, she shrugged. She knew he had never been very sociable.

  She sighed and sat down near the fire, its warmth a pleasant contrast from the cool stone of the rest of the room.

  23

  “Zelia?” Someone shook her, “Zelia, wake up. Freg…” Linithion cursed and Zelia heard her steps speeding away.

  Zelia could feel and hear her, but she couldn’t respond, she couldn’t even make herself breathe. No! Don’t leave me! Zelia screamed, though her body didn’t make a sound. She was frantically trying to get her body to move, but it wouldn’t. Then on the edge of her consciousness she could feel something tugging at her, but it was faint, as if something blocked its pull, like a heavy boot on an invisible rope.

  Feeling the strange sensation, she forced herself to stop and calm down. She had been in this state before and would come back just as she always did, but what was this pulling at her and what was it tugging at. She wanted to find this rope and yank back at it, but she couldn’t find it. Relenting from the search, she tried to remember what she was doing. I fell asleep, great.

  She tried to find the humor in her situation, but she couldn’t as so much depend on her being up and breathing. She could already feel the pain of the decay that always came before her body rebuilt itself, but it was slow and most of her body still screamed for blood and oxygen.

  “From what Eleanor said, the last time this happened Yargo brought her back with some sort of lightning before she had slipped too far,” Alrindel’s voice drifted to her, his voice growing nearer.

  “That spell, Spartel, it could work,” Linithion said, her tone hiding that she had used it on Zelia once before.

  “Perhaps. Go get my book and staff,” Erolith said calmly. “Move her to the bed.”

  She could feel Alrindel’s hair on her face as he lifted her. She wanted to tense as her ribs twisted against the screws holding them to the metal plate, but she couldn’t.

  A familiar hand, Erolith’s rested on her forehead.

  “It’s amazing how conscious she is in this state.”

  He shifted her so her ribs didn’t pull on the plate so much.

  “That better?” he asked with his hand pressed against her forehead again.

  She tried to give off positive energy as she knew he couldn’t hear thoughts as Eleanor did.

  “Do you always feel this much?”

  Yes. She couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sadness mixed with pain at the thought. She had spent over a hundred years in a state such as this. She scolded herself for thinking that way. It was in the past and she needed to move forward as much as she needed to breathe.

  “Quickly,” Vainoff’s voice was as crisp as the wisp of cold air that swept across her, “I can do the spell.”

  He muttered the words, then stopped mid-word.

  “I’ve never seen someone so ashen. Can we?”

  “We must try, she still feels
and hears in this state and who knows what the others will do,” Erolith’s hand moved from her forehead as he spoke.

  Vainoff seemed to fight some internal battle as it was a moment before he began muttering the words again. Water splashed as something touched the washbowl in the corner. Then the cloth that covered her chest dampened.

  “Spartel,” Vainoff muttered the last word, and she convulsed, her entire body curling in pain. As her body relaxed, she still couldn’t breathe, but now her eyes were open.

  “Try again,” Erolith instructed, reaching over to close her eyes.

  Vainoff muttered again, and this time the shock caused her to roll. She drew in air as she went, and Erolith kept her from rolling off the bed. His hand brushed against her back, the tickling sensation telling her Erolith searched for what all she had broken.

  “I’ll be fine,” she wheezed as she rolled back to her back, fighting the stars that threatened to invade her vision. “Thank you.”

  “You really cannot go long without getting yourself hurt, can you?” Erolith asked.

  “Apparently not.”

  “This will hurt,” he warned as he placed a hand on either side of her ribcage.

  He squeezed and pulled, and her breath caught as her broken rib shifted and popped. Her sides tickled the slightest bit as his powers helped guide her rib back into place yet again. She had heard bits and pieces about his powers, but she didn’t completely understand them. He seemed to be the opposite of Eleanor. She had nearly full control of the minds of others and felt others’ pain on contact. Erolith could feel the thoughts and memories of others, and his power to heal was unmatched on Mineria.

  “Do not breathe too deeply.”

  His words went unheeded as she struggled to force herself to breathe at all. She pulled in a shallow gasp of cool air and shivered. Her vision was still cloudy and star filled, so she only caught bits and pieces of his form sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “Just stay there until your vision clears. When you’re ready, join us for dinner, we have plans to discuss,” his tone made it seem as though nothing had just happened.

  “I’ll keep an eye on her,” Linithion said and took her father’s spot beside Zelia.