The Chellion Days

by A.S. Morrison

gingerly in her hands and stroked it with a small smile.

  “Thank you.” She whispered. “I’m sorry again. We’ll leave now.”

  Ackerley followed Cerise out the door and down the hall. Neither looked into Thora’s room. Cerise opened the door to the stairs and nodded back to Chellion. He tried to say something but the door closed behind them before he could start.

  It was a long slow walk back to the princess’s residence on the second floor. She didn’t look up from the pendant, which she stroked thoughtfully the entire way back. Once at the door she turned and smiled nervously.

  “I got it.” She said happily.

  Ackerley nodded. “It’s really pretty.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow. Thank you for coming with me.”

  “Anytime.” He said soothingly.

  She disappeared into her residence.

  15.

  The arid wind made Kenton cough. He could barely keep his eyes open as the sun was so strong and seemed to be getting stronger as it fell slowly through the sky ahead. The horse he rode kept throwing its head and swerving. It was as hard to maneuver as a cart with a stuck wheel. It was a very large horse that had no intention of doing anything its rider wanted. It resembled Sidestep in species alone.

  Kenton held on tight to the reigns, his body slumped forward. He had been on this journey since before dawn. He ached all over, dried blood flaked off his face as he went. But it would soon be better. He could see green in the distance and knew the Vastlands were almost behind him. He even heard a stream somewhere, or perhaps not, he had been wrong before.

  “Go on your way.” Victor had said early that morning as two strong Welgos dragged Kenton through town. “Remember what I said. Always remember it.”

  Kenton shivered despite the heat. He went over what Victor had said so many times already. Surely he would remember.

  The horse started to the right and off the path. Kenton tried to steer it back on course but it had no intention of doing that. Kenton was too weak to put much force behind his efforts and let the horse go. The sound of water grew louder and it became clear that the horse, whom he had nicknamed Biganmean, was heading for a drink.

  Kenton collapsed off the horse and shoved his head under the cool water when they arrived. He drank his fill and lay sprawled out on the grass.

  “You think this is the Mothund?” Kenton asked the horse.

  The horse didn’t care.

  “It might be. I think it might connect with another that will take us there.”

  He sat up quickly and looked around. He could hear the unmistakable sound of people coming in his direction. he squinted in the evening sun and made out a large group hugging the river. The unmistakable sound of carts and children sounded lovely to his ears. He jumped up, finding long lost energy, and went towards them with a smile.

  The whole group looked as worn as he did. A middle aged couple came to a stop in front of him. A couple children rode in the cart they pulled. No one else stopped, the rest of the group trudged on without them.

  “Where are you coming from?” Kenton asked. “Not the manor region, I hope?”

  “The manors?” The woman retorted with a sarcastic laugh. “Does this lot look to be coming from there?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Where are you from?”

  “Doesn't matter now.” The man said. “It’s gone. Burned up a week ago.”

  “The Welgos?”

  “Of course, who else?” The woman said angrily. “Now how abouts you? Where are you off to. You look like a Chell, but your horse sure don’t.”

  “I’m an adjutant to the king.” Kenton said proudly. “My horse was taken so I stole this one. I’m heading to the manor region. The king’s army is there, or should be getting there soon.”

  “Makes no difference to us.” The woman said. “He didn’t send help. We asked and asked as we knew those foul things were comin’. Never got a single army man to help. The king let us go up. We got out before, of course.”

  “Where are you heading now?”

  The man threw his arms up, clearly annoyed. “I guess Vloraisha. That’s where everyone’s going. Gotta get out a here. This whole place is gonna go up before too long. They care, those Vloraishans. My sister and her family went there months ago. I gotta letter telling all about how nice and such. It’s a place to see—so I hear.”

  “You say everybody?” Kenton asked. “Everyone’s heading there?”

  “Well sure.” The woman said. “That's the only place to go. Desert to the East, sea to the West, anger to the North. All’s left is the South.”

  “It’ll take weeks.” Kenton said. “Weeks and weeks.”

  The man nodded. “That’s all we got is time. Nothing else matters at this point.”

  They picked up the handles to the cart and started towards the group.

  “Have you heard anything about the army at all?”

  The woman scoffed. “Not a thing. They’d better all be dead if you ask me. Not helping us, can you believe it?”

  Kenton walked with them. “What about Chellion Castle? Hear anything about that?”

  “I hope it’s gone up too.” The man said. “I hope the whole world’s gone up.”

  “Anything at all?” Kenton asked feverishly. “Any news at all?”

  “Oh shut it about the castle.” The woman scolded. “Just get on back to your king and hope he’s still in one piece. You soldier types never cared about us. Nobody in this whole kingdom ever cared about us.” She suddenly stopped and pointed a dirty finger at Kenton. “And our town made the carts. You know it? We always made the carts and we weren’t even thought of when those things came. Try getting things places without a cart. We made ‘m and nothing.”

  “Be careful about the river. The Welgos are building towns on rivers now.” Kenton warned.

  “That’s another thing.” The man dropped the cart and pointed his finger at Kenton. “They don’t care about us neither. They destroyed our town, but we see them coming and going everyday and they don’t care a thing where we’re going. It’s like they only care to destroy the stuff. Once we’re on they could care less. I hope we find their town and I hope they let us in. This’ll be South Welgland before long and we’re just fine with that.” They stormed off in a huff.

  Kenton went back to Biganmean and watched the group go. “I hope they get there.” He said quietly.

  The horse had enough for the day and sat down by the river. Kenton tried to get it up, but it wouldn’t budge. He decided to let it rest for the night and did the same.

  The morning dawned and Kenton had a hard time getting up. His body was so sore he could barely move. He cleaned off the remaining dried blood and stretched. He found the horse chomping on grass nearby and started on towards the manor region.

  He felt better than he had the day before and made pretty good time. Biganmean wasn’t as moody that day and occasionally did what Kenton wanted it to do.

  Hours passed uneventfully. The weather cooled as they went further north.

  Sometime in the afternoon they came to the burned remains of a town. Kenton had seen many burned towns in his years in the army, but this one hurt more than the rest. Usually he passed through them on the way to engage a Welgo army. This was the first time that he really got a good look at one. The smell was what he noticed first. The sickening smell of burned homes caught his nose and he couldn’t hardly stand it.

  Burned bodies littered the streets. This town must not have had any warning. He noticed that some of the bodies were those of Welgos, but he didn’t feel any sort of happiness from that either. Kenton thought briefly about stopping to bury some of the townsfolk, but decided against it.

  The smell and sights became too much for him and he pressed on. To his surprise he came upon a small house not five minutes from the town. The house stood alone among the backdrop of gr
een grass and a few small hills. There was not a single mark on the house that brought a struggle to mind. Having gone so long without a break, Kenton dismounted the large black horse and knocked on the door.

  It opened and woman only a few years older than him answered. She looked shocked to see him, but let him in without a word. Kenton bowed and entered the house. The woman went out and tied the horse to a post.

  “I thought you might come.” She said, sitting down in a comfortable looking chair and motioning for Kenton to do the same.

  He sat down and looked around the small, yet finely decorated room. Paintings were on the walls and a carpet on the floor.

  “What do you mean?” He asked.

  “I assume you're with the army to get my take on the town over there. Are you not?” She busied herself with putting her long hair into a bun.

  “I’m just passing through.” He said honestly. “I am, however, with the army. And I am indeed surprised that your house is so well maintained through the war.”

  “Uh-huh.” She said absentmindedly.

  “How have you avoided them?” Kenton asked.

  “Who?”

  “The Welgos.” He was a little perplexed that she had to ask.

  “Oh, they don’t care about me. They only go after towns. You know, places that might have something. I think they just like to put on a show as they take over. That’s what they’re doing after all. Though I suppose I shouldn't tell you that—or that I shouldn’t have to tell you.” She shrugged and glanced around.

  “I do indeed realize—”

  “Is the