by RG Long
“Blume!” he exclaimed. “What’s the meaning of this? Don’t you know the lateness of the hour? Who are these people?”
“Begging your pardon, Lord Evan and your majesty,” Jurrin said, answering for Blume. “We’ve had a rather exciting evening.”
25: In Common
Ealrin took a deep breath as he surveyed the city below him. He didn’t realize how large the capital felt until he had been alone to look out over the city. There was much more there than he had thought. Perhaps there was more there than he knew about. Even before he left his memories, that was.
The night time above Rerial was beautiful to behold. Brimstone lights glowed from nearly every residence down below and the other towers were wonderful to see in the twilight. It was a grand country. He just wished he remembered more of it. Flags flew from the towers of red and black with the white scorpion sign on them. He had hoped that maybe seeing symbols over the course of this day would jog his memory, but he had no such luck.
He took a drink of the tea he had made for himself, hoping it would warm him up. He had not felt very warm all today. Ealrin was still trying to get over the assassination attempt on the king.
Once again, he had found himself swept up in two grand political affairs. This time, however, it had not been something he was trying to do or change, but rather something that was happening around him and out of his control.
It didn’t seem fair.
No matter where they went, there was always some type of turmoil that seemed to follow. He took a deep breath. Doing the right thing was what he knew he ought to do. Yet the constant struggle of always coming into such turmoil was beginning to wear on him. The king had made mention of turbulent times just being over. Were they really as far behind him as the king hoped? Ealrin took another deep sigh.
“Can’t sleep either?” a voice said from behind him. He jumped at the sound. Turning around quickly, saw that Teresa was standing in the doorway.
He let out a relieved breath before turning back to look over the city scape.
“What’s causing you not to sleep tonight, princess?” he asked.
He wasn’t expecting much of an answer. Teresa mostly kept herself. She was stoic and hard. Someone who a person could be around, but never reach.
She came up to the balcony and looked out over the city as well. They stood there for a while together, just looking out over the city. He figured he might stay here a few moments more and then retire to bed. Ealrin did not expect the next words to come out of her mouth.
“He was such a pain,” she said. “Tory that is. Always complaining and never giving anything a rest. I’m surprised he made it as long as he did and attained the rank that he had. It should’ve been somebody else to do him in long before. He annoyed the rest of the troops with great ease.”
“Tory Greenwall.”
Ealrin said the name with both reverence and light in his heart.
Teresa was right of course, Tory always complained. About the weather, the lack of food, the hard day’s journey, and whatever else he could set his mind on at the moment. That was who he was. But he was also a strong fighter. An intelligent general. He was also a dear friend.
“We’ve lost many friends on this journey, haven’t we?” Ealrin asked. He wasn’t quite sure how to approach the subject. He had been there when it happened. When Tory had fallen.
It had been at the hand of his princess.
“A sword for the queen,” Teresa said. “Those words haunt me. Tory was faithful. Even to the end. I may be the better fighter, but I’m sure he was not fighting to kill me. He allowed me to win. Allowed me too...”
Teresa paused as she said these words. A gentle breeze blew over the two of them. Ealrin could feel the fresh chill on his skin. He noticed that Teresa was not wearing clothes nearly as thick as his own, just black pants and a gray shirt borrowed from Elise. He took off his coat and put it around her. He then offered her his own tea.
She accepted both without a word and went back to looking over the city. Ealrin tried to think of what he might say in order to help. There was only one thing he could think of.
“I understand,” he said, after a long pause in the conversation.
“No, you don’t,” Teresa said back. It was not a biting reply, but it was one that was harsh in its quickness.
“I killed a loyal subject to me. One of my father’s best generals. A legacy of Thoran. A sword of the king. Tory Greenwall was a complaining and a very annoying man. But he had a good soldier. A loyal servant. And how did I repay us loyalty?”
Teresa turned from the city and looked at Ealrin with eyes that he saw were red.
A single tear fell from her cheek.
“I ran him through. By my own blade.”
“You weren’t yourself,” Ealrin replied. “You were under that spell. You can’t be blamed for actions that you did while you were under that curse.”
“I could have fought it!” Teresa said throwing a hand up in the air and nearly sending the tea flying over the balcony into the depths below. “I could’ve done something. Anything. Anything other than killing my own soldier. My own loyal general.”
Teresa looked at him and he saw, not just the stoic princess and warrior he had always known, but a woman who was tormented. She had thought about this for a long time. She had been agonizing over it for longer than he had thought she would. He wondered how many sleepless nights she had endured thinking about killing Tory.
“You don’t understand,” she said turning away from him and beginning to walk back towards the doo.
“I do though, Ealrin said after her. “I do know what it’s like to...”
He swallowed hard. This had not been something he had talked about with anyone else since it happened. A dark chapter for him in their journey over Gilia.
“Jurgon was my friend just as much is Tory was. I could see myself doing it. I saw the Speaker as he cast a spell over me. I saw my hands take hold of that halfling’s throat. He was under the spell as much as I was. He could’ve fought back if he knew what he was doing. He could’ve blasted me into dust. But he did nothing. He let me choke the life out of him. And I did it. I...”
Ealrin felt his own eyes welling up.
“I killed a gifted speaker and a good friend. All because of a curse. Because of a spell that was put on me.”
He could feel his skin getting hot.
“So, don’t tell me I don’t understand,” he said. “Don’t tell me I don’t know anything about suffering. Or betraying a friend when you want to help them. Or that I don’t know what it’s like to see his face when I close my eyes and have his blood on my hands. The only reason Jurgon doesn’t walk on this earth anymore is because of me. Because I killed him.”
Ealrin turned back to face the balcony. He had not said those words out loud, not even to Jurrin or Blume or Holve. It was true though. Every time he saw Jurrin, he was reminded of his Sefen. He had killed a friend. All because he was not strong enough to resist.
He heard Teresa return to the railing and lean up against it next to him. Ealrin didn’t look over her way for some time.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed between them, but there were no words said.
Perhaps there wasn’t any need for words to be spoken. The self-exiled princess from Thoran who had heart of steel and an airship pilot from the country that wanted to see its fleet in the sky.
It was surprising that they held this one thing in common.
“You don’t remember anything do you?” Teresa asked as the stars began to twinkle more brightly above them. “About living here or before you came to Ruyn?”
Ealrin shook his head.
“Maybe you will,” she said. “But perhaps we both ought to get some sleep.”
She turned to go in, but hesitated just as she was going to take a step.
“Thank you,” she said.
Ealrin turned to look at her she still held the mug in her hands.
“For the tea.�
�
She reached out and lightly touched him on the shoulder before she walked inside, still wearing his coat.
Ealrin felt a shiver go through his body, even though for a moment, the winds had calmed down.
26: An Audience
Jurrin felt awkward standing in the presence of the king. He thought at one point that his majesty was taking a liking to him. He imagined that showing up in his quarters so late at night and with a poor reason to explain it all was not going to make himself more friendly towards the monarch.
“So, you were all in the school of magic library without permission,” King Belfast asked looking more and more tired as the evening went on. “May I ask what possessed all of you to attempt such a thing? Headmistress Cactus is a hard and unforgiving woman. To cross her in any form or fashion is dangerous at best.”
Jurrin was not completely sure why they were in the library. Miss Blume had said they needed a book. Since she was so adamant about it, he assumed that they truly did need that book in such dire circumstances. What he was interested in hearing, however, was why the redheaded speaker from Thoran thought he needed that particular tome as well.
Fortunately for Jurrin, Dangler was one who talked too much in the presence of someone in authority.
“I must beg your majesty’s forgiveness,” he said. I was studying at the Court of Three in hoping to form an alliance between our two nations and their schools of magic. I am, of course, still hoping that there can be an alliance between Rerial and Thoran as well. However, I found that I was unable to have questions answered at the Court. They told me that they knew of a book here that could potentially solve my curiosity. I regret to say that in my haste to answer my magical quandary, I did not go through the proper channels in order to ask permission and so went straight for the library in order to procure that which I sought. A book now in the possession of Headmistress Cactus.”
The king put his head in one of his hands.
“So, you mean to tell me that instead of waiting for mourning, you broke into my school of magic, dueled with my headmistress, and expected to make an alliance Rerial after the face without any repercussions whatsoever? What fool hearty wisdom is this? Did you know your princess is here? I doubt she will find favor with you when she hears about such transgressions.”
Jurrin saw Dangler’s face fall at this.
“Princess Teresa is here?”
King Belfast sighed. Jurrin saw Lord Evan step forward at this.
“And Miss Blume, why were you in the school of magic after hours? I thought you had taken a tour today and were able to look at the library to your heart’s content?”
Blume shuffled her feet and looked at the floor.
“Well,” she began timidly.
Jurrin stepped in.
“Begging your pardon, your Lordship,” he said as he stepped ahead of her. “I had asked Miss Blume to take me to the library. I spent all day in your hangar and was so enthralled with it all that I just had to see the library and the school too. I’ve never seen such wondrous sights in all my life and I was impatient. I didn't mean to get her into trouble. Honest I didn’t. But she said since we were there we may as well get one more book. That’s when we ran into these two.”
King Belfast looked up from his hands and over at Jurrin. The halfling tried his best to maintain eye contact with the king, even though he knew he was being dishonest. Would his Majesty be able to see right through his lie? If he did, would he possibly understand that Jurrin was just trying to keep Blume from getting in trouble?
The corner of the Kings mouth twitched.
“In the morning,” he began explaining. “I will fly out to the Court of Three in order to receive back your friend, the Skrilx, as well as work to ensure our peace treaty stays intact. I wish for all four of you to accompany me so that I might continue to learn what has transpired. Until such a time, this book you all seem so keen on will stay safely with headmistress cactus. I’ve instructed a messenger to tell her as much.”
Jurrin was shocked. Would they potentially be able to avoid punishment?
He took a deep breath, hoping that the king was not about to rule judgment over them as a final note.
“For now, rest. We could all use some.”
Jurrin let out his sigh of relief and saw Blume relax her shoulders as well.
“Blume and Jurrin, return with Lord Evan to his quarters in the hanger. Dangler and our little friend here, I’ll see that my attendants find you some place to sleep in the Royal Tower. Tomorrow, fly to the Court.”
The king turned to the table and chair that was behind him, a candleholder with nearly spent candles waited for him there.
Jurrin turned to walk out. For the time being, it seemed they were going to avoid being punished. He couldn’t believe it.
As for returning to the Court, Jurrin didn’t know what he thought of that.
He looked up at Blume who shook her head slightly. If anything, she looked more worried than relived. Perhaps it wasn’t from gratefulness that she hung her shoulders.
Maybe he shouldn’t rest as easy tonight as he had hoped.
27: Definitions
Felicia woke with a start. At first, she understood that everything around her was very dark and she was worried that she had lost her vision. But then something bright caught her eyes and she wanted to shut them against the painful light. It wasn’t that it was dark everywhere. It was only black where the fire was not. The smell of smoke filled her nostrils quickly, as did the smell of wet earth and vegetation.
She was no longer flying through the air like she had been, she was lying down on her back. On top of something that felt soft, like a bit of leaves.
“Not too quickly now,” set a voice she recognized.
“Holve?” Felecia croaked. Her voice was strained and dry. “What happened?”
A dry chuckle came from the old man.
“Which part?” he asked. “The part where we were attacked by those damned metal birds? Or when the airship exploded right above us and Firag here and the thereof us landed on the island and our dragon had a wing half burned off? Or the part where you were unconscious for a few days and I’ve been nursing you back to health? A lot of things have happened.”
Felicia did not appreciate this chatty Holve. She was much more used to the grim, dark nature of the man. Perhaps a few days of solitude have done him well.
“Ugh,” she moaned, trying to move up on her elbow without looking at the fire. “I suppose the dwarf and Wisym are off doing a bit of venturing and exploring the island. Or is it something you’ve made our assassin do?”
Felicia waited for a response but none came.
She slowly opened her eyes and looked at Holve. The fire cast shadows on the face she was more accustomed to seeing: one of grim focus.
“The others?” Felecia asked again.
Holve shook his head.
Slowly, the ship captain closed her eyes again. Where they all lost at sea? Was it really just the old man and her left?
She heard a loud rumble coming from the other side of the campfire and she remembered. It wasn’t just them. They were also joined by the dragon.
“I can’t fly very well at the moment,” he said with a snarl. “My wing has been so badly damaged that to fly is nearly impossible. I asked Holve to heal it for me, but he says that type of magic is not known to him. If I were whole, I would be able to fly around the island and look for your friends. as it is...”
“I told you,” Holve said with a little bit of his familiar grim voice. “Healing people is far different then healing one of your kind. I don’t dare try magic on a dragon for fear I put some curse on you instead of putting you back together, I don’t mean any insult. I don’t want to hurt you.”
That reminded Felicia of something.
“Just how long have you been able to do magic, Holve?” she asked. “I wouldn’t say it’s something you’ve ever shown to other people. I never knew you could do any of that. How long of
you been able to speak?”
She kept her eyes closed as she asked the question and so was unable to see what his face looked like as he thought over his reply. He was silent for several moments.
“The gift is something I have had for some time,” he said after a long while. “Over a long career traveling and fighting, I’ve learned it’s best not to display all of your strengths at once. It’s best to keep your enemies guessing.”
Felecia nodded at that, but something about what Holve said didn’t feel right. Her head hurt too much to try to contemplate it more at the moment.
The dragon growled again.
“I say you should try using your magic to heal me, Holve. I brought you to the island as requested. I am willing to take the consequences if your magic does not rightfully put my wing back together for the chance to fly and be made whole again.”
Holve let out and mirthless laugh.
“I’ve dealt with angry men before, and I’d rather not deal with an upset dragon. Were I to heal you and do a poor job, I think you would be upset and try to exact certain revenge. But if I don’t, it sounds like he might be mad at me regardless and still try to eat us both.”
“Then get on with healing me,” Firag said.
“And have you burn us to a crisp if I fail?”
The Dragon snarled.
“I may burn you to a crisp if you do not even try, young one. My patience is wearing thin.”
Felicia opened her eyes. She wondered how old that dragon was. She knew that most dragons lived to be well older than any dwarves of elves she knew. This dragon looked remarkably young compared to all the other ones she had seen and heard tales of. How old would it have to be to call Holve a young one?
The older man sighed and got to his feet. He took his spear in hand and twirled it over his head. The white rimstone embedded in it began to glow.
“Do not hold me accountable if something goes wrong,” Holve said. “I will be doing my best to alleviate your pain, but I make no guarantees I can complete the wing and bring it back. I’ve never tried to heal a dragon before.”
