Everflame: The Complete Series

by Dylan Lee Peters

  Does she know? Have I given myself away? Does everyone know?

  •••

  As the travelers sat in front of the fire they had built in the wide open plains of Ephanlarea, ready to call end to another arduous day, Ben Floyd decided it was time to turn the tables on the newest member of their group.

  “So, Annie, now that you’ve been educated in the when, what and where of our lives, are you feeling inspired to share a bit about yourself?”

  Annie’s mood changed almost instantly. She had been calm, happy and content, ready for a long sleep, but now her eyes narrowed and the stain of anger entered her voice. “You know all there is of me. I’m not very interesting.”

  “All we know of you, is that you don’t know your family, you have lived alone in Chreos, and that you have visions. That can’t be all there is.”

  “It is.”

  “Were you born in Chreos?” asked Ben, determined to continue.

  “I don’t know where I was born. I’ve lived in many different places.”

  “Well, who raised you?”

  “No one,” said Annie flatly.

  “No one,” echoed Ben.

  Annie glared at Ben in silent fury. Tomas could see that his brother was crossing a line with the woman, and did what he could to intervene and change the subject.

  “So how far do you think we are from Cerano?”

  Ben looked at his brother with a raised eyebrow, knowing full well what his question was intended to do. “A day, maybe two,” said Ben, agreeing to give up his pursuit of Annie’s past by answering the question.

  “Do you think old Mr. Tripp will be happy to see us?” Tomas slapped his brother on the back with a short laugh.

  “No,” said Ben darkly. “No, I don’t.”

  •••

  Oh, where do the sailors go, they go,

  Oh, where do the sailors go.

  To the drink, to the clink,

  Or with a wink they sink,

  Into the frothy below.

  Nesbitt’s Galley was roaring as the piano man sang and hammered the keys of his old, brown piano. Many people from the surrounding villages had come to Cerano after the fires, and the Galley found itself packed to the gills every night. Cerano had proven to be a refuge for those forced to leave their homes. The fishing industry did quite well in Cerano, and any man willing to learn and put in a hard day of work could find pay to bring home to his family. Cerano was seeing prosperous times and its borders were growing with the influx of people. Nesbitt’s Galley was all too happy to fill their bellies with food and drink and fill their ears with melody.

  Mr. Tripp laughed with his patrons as he poured drinks behind the bar. The man’s barrel chest brimmed with pride and his smile, wide and beaming, could be seen through the crowds from any corner of the tavern. Times were good, and not much could sully that mood. But when Tripp saw a hooded man, who was sitting at his bar, give him a knowing nod and flash the smallest glimpse of his golden weapon, Tripp’s smile disappeared and he dropped the mug of ale he had been filling. Without hesitation, Tripp motioned to another man behind the bar to take over for him, and then, exited through a side door. The hooded man knew just where Mr. Tripp was going and stealthily followed him.

  As Tripp entered his storeroom, he stared at the faces of those who had found their way inside. The hooded man came up behind him and placed a hand upon Tripp’s shoulder. He used his other arm to pull back the hood of his cloak.

  “I knew I would see you again,” said Tripp. “I knew it, and you’ll have to forgive me to admit I wasn’t looking forward to it.”

  “That’s okay,” said Evercloud with his hand still upon Tripp’s shoulder. “I don’t blame you a bit.”

  “Tomas, Ben,” said Mr. Tripp, nodding to the other faces in the room. “Where’s the Captain?”

  “The Captain didn’t–,” started Evercloud before Mr. Tripp stopped him.

  “I don’t want to know how… Did he find what he was looking for?”

  Evercloud nodded solemnly and walked to the table at the center of the room. “We need your help, Tripp.”

  “I’ll not leave again, Evercloud. That life is not for me. You know I’m not against you, but I can’t do it. Things are going well for me. I’ve built a life here.”

  “We’re not asking you to leave with us. We want your knowledge of the area. We need information.”

  “That I can give,” said Mr. Tripp and exhaled with relief. “What do you need to know?”

  Evercloud motioned to Ben, who produced the map with the eagle feathers from his pack and laid it out across the small table. Mr. Tripp dragged a chair to the table and sat in it, studying the map closely.

  “Do you recognize it?” asked Evercloud.

  “Well, it’s obviously Ephanlarea, but I don’t know what this feather business is about. This map means nothing to me.”

  Evercloud pointed to the feather whose arrow connected to the patch of desert, west of Cerano, across the White Mountains. “We mean to travel here. What can you tell us?”

  Mr. Tripp looked slowly up at Evercloud as if he were a madman asking for directions to the moon. “Don’t. That’s what I can tell you. Are you all daft?” Tripp looked at the faces around the room, as if looking for one sane person in the bunch. “You have no idea where that arrow points to, do you?” The travelers all shook their heads. “Have you never heard of the Valley of Morsus?”

  Comprehension bloomed across the faces of Ben and Tomas and was quickly replaced with horror.

  “The Valley of Morsus is real?” asked Tomas, unbelieving.

  “Aye. As real as a blade in your gut.”

  “We had always heard the stories as children,” said Ben. “But they were always told as myth.”

  “No myth,” said Tripp. “Five men have left Cerano in my lifetime to seek the treasure that lies within the valley and have never returned. The only thing to be found in that valley is death.”

  “Could someone fill me in on what the Valley of Morsus is?” asked Evercloud.

  “Legend has it,” began Ben. “That there is a treasure in the Valley of Morsus, and should you find the treasure, you will be granted eternal life.”

  “But no one has ever found the treasure,” added Tomas. “In fact, the legend says that no one who has ever entered the valley has walked back out to tell the tale. They say the valley is enchanted.”

  “And they’d be right,” interrupted Tripp. “As soon as a person sets foot in the valley, they go mad, and that madness doesn’t leave you until you die.” Mr. Tripp stood up and began pacing the room. “You can’t go there. It’s not even a discussion.”

  “We have to,” said Evercloud plainly.

  “Why?!” shouted Tripp. “Because you found a map with some feathers on it? You don’t understand, I’ve seen what that valley does to people.”

  “I thought no one has ever returned from the Valley of Morsus,” said Ben.

  “My grandfather did,” said Tripp. “Or at least his body did. The valley kept his mind. You see, my grandfather was full of life before Morsus. He was talkative and energetic, had a real personality. Never again after Morsus… Never again.” Tripp stared deadpan at the three men. “He never said another word after returning from Morsus. My grandmother found him naked and shaking on the porch one morning. He shrieked at her touch like a wounded dog. When she finally got him inside and into bed, all he did was stare at the wall. He never left that bed again… died a year after his return…You can’t go to Morsus…you just can’t….”

  Chapter 18: The Valley of Morsus

  Despite Tripp’s advice, the travelers moved on. The trek through the southern expanse of the White Mountains had been arduous, and if it had not been for Iolana and Evercloud’s abilities to control certain elements, the group would have most certainly perished. The mountains in this region were comprised of stark, dry, barren rock, with few passages across the range. In many places, Evercloud and Riverpaw had to ferry their comp
anions over gaps that would have otherwise proved impassable. Footing was an issue, as the rock they walked upon was prone to breaking. Iolana had many cuts and scrapes to heal as the travelers moved through the mountains. Very few animals lived in this section of the White Mountains and the group was only able to find sustenance through the proficiency of Tomas’ skills as an archer. Meals consisted of small foul and nothing more. Riverpaw was becoming undernourished and Annie hoped that his remarks of eating humans had truly been jokes.

  Finally, in the early hours of the seventh day of their time in the White Mountains, they came around a large peak that looked down into the Valley of Morsus. The descent into the valley was steep and the rock seemed as if it were painted black. Nothing grew in the valley; the sand was dull and black rock jutted from the earth intermittently. There was no sound in the valley, save for the travelers’ footsteps and heartbeats. They felt completely alone in the valley and no end to it could be seen, due to a thick, purple mist that rolled over the land. It caused the random, black rocks to look like ominous shadows, moving in and out of their view. The valley was like a cold dream. Evercloud wondered if they had found the end of the world.

  No one spoke as they entered the mists. They were terribly afraid that there might be nothing but silence in place of their words; in the very same way one might try to scream in a nightmare and find that they cannot produce any sound. The travelers looked to Evercloud for strength. He nodded at them and urged them forward into the mists. Their bodies shivered in the cold mist as it enveloped them. It was as if the mist probed their skin, wishing to find entrance into their bodies in order to steal the very warmth of life from them. A shadow appeared in front of the group and darkened as they approached. Cutting through the purple mist, the detail of the shadow sharpened until it caused the travelers to stop their progress. Annie gave a small gasp. Lying in front of them was a pile of over one hundred human skulls. A stake had been driven down into the middle of the pile and bore a sign that read, in deep-red letters, TURN AWAY.

  Tomas dared to speak. “What do you think is in this valley?”

  “Nightmare,” answered Ben.

  Evercloud walked forward and tried to prod a skull with the blade of his golden claw. As soon as his claw came into contact with the gray bone, it wavered, and slowly disappeared into the mist. Evercloud cocked a suspecting eyebrow and took a full swipe at the sign. The travelers were stunned as Evercloud’s claw passed through the sign, unimpeded.

  “Illusions,” said Evercloud quietly, and then, repeated himself loudly for the others to hear. “Illusions in the mist. I’m sure that illusions, like this one, are what drove Tripp’s grandfather mad.”

  “So, should we assume that everything we see in this valley is nothing more than an illusion?” asked Riverpaw.

  “No,” answered Evercloud. “Remain on your guard, but if you see something that seems to be trying to influence you more than harm you, ignore it.”

  “Onward?” asked Ben.

  “Onward.”

  The travelers cautiously moved past where the stake and skulls had been and closely surveyed the mists around them. Two minutes passed without incident, but then, the group began to hear the soft crying of a child.

  “Do you hear that?” asked Tomas.

  “It’s a child,” said Iolana. “We need to help it.”

  “No,” said Evercloud. “It’s a trap.”

  The travelers walked on, but the crying of the child intensified, and soon, the wails turned into calls for help. Don’t leave me, begged the voice. I’m hurt. I need help.

  “It sounds so real,” said Tomas. “Are we sure it’s not real? I have to know.”

  “No, Tomas,” urged Ben, but it was too late. Tomas began to quickly wander off into the mists, searching for the voice of the child.

  “Hello,” he called. “Where are you? I can help you.”

  Over here, cried the child’s voice. Please. Hurry.

  Tomas began to run toward the voice of the child, and just as he thought he had found it, the mists of the valley cleared and Tomas found himself on the edge of a thirty-foot pit in the valley floor. Jagged, black rocks lined the bottom of the pit. Tomas did all he could to stop himself from going over the edge, but his momentum was too much to stop. He lost his footing as the rock beneath his feet gave way along the edge of the pit, and Tomas began to fall over the edge, waving his arms wildly. Suddenly, a hand shot forward and grabbed the back of Tomas’ shirt, stopping his fall just a moment before it would have been too late. Evercloud tightened his grip on Tomas and pulled him back toward safety.

  “Do you understand now?” barked Evercloud at Tomas.

  “Yes,” said Tomas, out of breath and covered in the sweat of panic.

  “Draw your bow and stay close to me.”

  Evercloud and Tomas returned to the group, standing in the now silent mists. Seeing Tomas’ drawn weapon, Ben unsheathed his swords from their scabbards and handed one to Annie. She took hold of it tentatively and stared at Ben with uncertainty in her eyes.

  “It’s okay,” assured Ben. “I’ll be right beside you.”

  Annie nodded slowly.

  Evercloud called to the group, “Follow behind me closely. Do not stop moving forward, no matter what happens. Let’s go.”

  The group moved through the chilling, purple mists of the Valley of Morsus. They remained silent, attempting to keep their senses acute, scanning the obscured terrain that sprawled out in front of them. For the better part of half an hour, all that could be heard were footsteps and heartbeats, but just when their fears began to abate and a hope that they would pass through the valley unscathed had begun to grow… it began.

  “Do you hear that?” whispered Riverpaw to Iolana. “It sounds like men shouting.”

  “I don’t hear it,” she answered. “Keep walking.”

  The shouts of the men continued to grow in Riverpaw’s head. They sounded as if they were coming from behind him. Don’t turn around, Riverpaw thought to himself. Don’t fall for the trick. But it was not only voices of men that haunted him.

  “Riverpaw, we must run. Do you understand?”

  Riverpaw turned his head and the mists opened into blackness. “F–Father?”

  Torches lit with the fire of hundreds of angry men poured over the black hills in the distance. Whiteclaw stood next to his son, his eye’s wound bleeding onto the ground.

  “We have to run, Riverpaw.”

  No, this isn’t real. This isn’t real. Riverpaw turned back to face the mist ahead of him, and continued to walk.

  Next to Riverpaw, Annie swooned and fell to her knees, as a vision throttled through her mind. In the vision, the party was stuck in the valley, unable to find their way out. They were starving, and the men were whispering. ‘She’s small,’ they mumbled to each other. ‘Riverpaw could dispatch her quickly, and he’s hungry.’ Annie broke away from her vision, and found Ben trying to pull her to her feet.

  “Annie, are you all right? We have to keep walking.”

  Annie stood and nodded at Ben. My visions have never been wrong, she thought. But… they wouldn’t… Suddenly, Annie swooned again as another vision took her. Ben caught her in his arms and her eyes rolled back into her head. This time, the vision showed her the men, eating and huddled around a fire. In the vision Riverpaw was gnawing at a corpse, Annie was not there, and Iolana was not there.

  As Annie was lost in her vision, Ben hefted her over his shoulder and continued to walk on.

  A loud roar came from the front of the group and Tomas raised his bow. A shadow swooped from the mists overhead, and plucked Evercloud off of the ground. He screamed as the beast carried him away into the purple void.

  “No!” yelled Tomas and unleashed an arrow into the mists.

  “Keep walking,” said Ben at Tomas’ side.

  Suddenly, two more beastly shadows plucked Iolana and Riverpaw away from the group. Tomas yelled again, and began to shake in the cold air.

  “Toma
s, whatever you are seeing, it is not real. Keep walking, no matter what.”

  Tomas nodded, terrified. Keep walking, he told himself. Keep walking. But terror struck again and Tomas began to mutter incoherent words as another shadow tore Annie and his brother away.

  “No!!” he bellowed and fell to his knees, scraping his legs on small rocks. I’m alone, he thought in a panic. I’m alone. Tomas stood from the dusty valley floor, stared into the mists, and continued to walk.

  “Tomas, it’s okay. It’s not real,” said Iolana, looking back at him. But Tomas was despondent and gave no indication that he had heard her.

  “He’ll be fine as long as he continues to walk,” said Ben. “We all have to continue.”

  Lightning shot overhead with a crackle and was followed with a sickening laugh.

  “Continue walking toward your death,” sneered a metallic voice.

  “You’re not real!” yelled Ben, as the burning, white body of the Great Tyrant floated above the heads of the travelers.

  “I am as real as I need to be, Ben Floyd. I am deep within the minds and hearts of Ephanlarea, and your people will break to my will.”

  “No, we will stop you.”

  The voice of the Tyrant laughed with cynicism. “You can’t even stop these illusions.”

  “I will. We will,” said Ben through gritted teeth.

  “Give up, Ben Floyd. You will never convince men to believe in themselves.”

  “I will,” said Ben resolutely, and continued to walk in the mist.

  Soon, Annie awoke from her vision and Ben set her gently upon the ground.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “No… but I can walk. My visions were… the mists are powerful, aren’t they?”

  “Yes,” said Ben, “but they haven’t beaten us yet. If the five of us stay together, we’ll get through this.”

  “It seems as though the mists have taken your ability to count,” said Iolana with a soft chuckle. No one answered her remark.