Abram studied Whill for a moment, as if deciding upon something. “No, Whill, she was not.”
Whill let out a frustrated sigh. “Then why do I have such powers, and to what extent do I have them?”
Abram gave Whill a sympathetic smile. “You have a gift. I was surprised when you healed Tarren, I had no idea you would be able to tap into your abilities until you were properly trained, but you did. How you did it I do not know. It seems that your emotions were so strong; you instinctively did what you had to, to save the boy. As you have proven, you had no control over what you were doing, which is why it was so dangerous. It takes a great deal of energy to heal a person who is on the brink of death. Not only did you heal his wound, you mended his broken bones as well. That is why the feat took such a toll on you. It takes as much energy from the healer as it would take for the person to heal himself.”
“That doesn’t explain how I can do it.”
“That, my friend, I would rather explain to you along with everything else within the mountain.”
Whill had known that would be the answer, but he was too mentally drained to argue. “Fine, then. At least tell me what became of the pirates.”
Abram’s face relaxed, visually relieved to have the subject changed. He put his hands on the side of the ship and began to recall the events after Whill’s blackout.
“You were healing Tarren, and everyone was kind of frozen. After I broke your contact with the boy, you passed out, and that was when a great red dragon appeared out of nowhere and attacked the pirate ship. In an instant everything changed. Suddenly the pirates were fleeing back up the ropes, frantically trying to get away from you and me. I took the opportunity to free the slaves who remained on the boat. They still stood in awe, unflinching in the presence of the dragon. I told them to go and get their women and children, and I began up the ropes, screaming like a madman. The pirates not fleeing in terror were either busy loading the harpoons or jumping overboard. When I got to the ship’s deck, I followed Cirrosa below. He was waiting for me. After one hell of a fight, I finally got the best of the captain and cut him through. By that time half of the pirate ship was ablaze. I jumped in the water and swam away from the burning wreck and to our ship.”
Whill was wide-eyed. “And the dragon didn’t advance?”
Abram laughed. “No. It finished off the pirate ship, circled overhead twice, and flew away.”
“Why did it help us?”
Abram shook his head. “I really don’t know, Whill. It may be that when it saw what you were doing to Tarren, it thought you were indeed an elf. The dragons and elves have a strange friendship, as you are aware. It has been less strong of late, since the creation of the Draggard by the Dark elf Eadon. But loyalty still lies between them.”
Whill was at a loss for words. He couldn’t believe how they had all escaped such peril. And he still had not fully absorbed the fact that he had healed Tarren with energy. His head began to ache as he pondered the implications of such powers.
Abram again put his hand upon his shoulder. “Come, Whill, let’s get you something to eat. You’ve lost at least ten pounds in the last two days, or hadn’t you noticed? The slaves, it turns out, are from Eldon Island. The Eldonians are great fisherman and have caught quite a feast.”
Whill regarded the men at the opposite side of the boat. “They hold no animosity towards us? After all, we killed many of their people.”
“No, they do not blame us. They know we had no choice; we did what we had to do. On the contrary, they are grateful that we helped free them. Now come, and do not feel ashamed.”
Whill followed Abram to the rear of the ship and together they joined the Eldonian men. The men had caught a bundle of tuna, which Whill was eager to accept. Though he still felt awkward around them, he could not deny his hunger. He ate four bowls of the tuna as he listened to the Eldonians speak of their homeland. Eldon was a large island off the southern coast of Eldalon. In times of war it had been used as a lookout point. In the event that an attacking fleet was spotted, the people of Eldon would light great beacons atop the mountains, which thus became known as the Burning Mountains. In return for their constant watch over the waters, the Eldonians received protection from the king of Eldalon, and were allowed to live the way they had for centuries. Fishermen by trade, they lived peacefully on their island and were thought by many to be a primitive people. They shunned many of the ways and practices of the peoples of the mainland and were content to live their own way.
Whill listened with admiration as an Eldonian man spoke of the ways of his people. “We want only blue skies and long lives. We are happy having what we need. The want for unnecessary material things leads only to envy and greed. Wars are spawned from such ways of thought, as is evident on the mainland. We help the king of Eldalon because in this day it is a necessity for us to have his protection. Not that we cannot defend our own shores; rather, we choose to live in peace as we were intended to.”
He paused and looked at Whill, who glanced away, uneasy. “When the pirates took us we were at sea, which is why Eldalon was not alerted to our dilemma,” the man went on. “We had been prisoners of those beasts for almost a full year. They attacked our ship and made us their slaves. Many of us they killed, not because we tried to revolt, but for their own enjoyment. The old, the weak, and the sick were disposed of quickly. They used our women…”
The man stopped, so filled with rage was he at the memory of their imprisonment. He took a deep breath and looked to the sky with tears in his eyes. “And then the captain told us about the two of you, and said that if we could kill you he would let us go. So you see, we had to attack; though we knew you not, we saw you as our enemy, the only things standing between us and freedom. In my heart I knew that Cirrosa would not hold true to his word, but we had no choice. We would have all surely died if it had not been for you, and for that we are grateful. Those who died attacking you died with honor, and we begrudge you not for it.”
Whill did not know what to say, though he knew the man was sincere and he understood that he and Abram had had no choice in what they’d done. Still, he felt a deep guilt that he was sure he would never really be washed clean of. He himself had never known his father, and now he had killed the fathers of many children. They had been good men, forced to fight. The thought of it all made Whill sick to his stomach. Hoping not to be thought rude, he excused himself from the eating circle and joined Tarren at the wheel.
“Hello, Master Whill, did dinner do you some good?” He wore the same wide smile with which he always regarded Whill.
“I’m no longer hungry, but I couldn’t feel worse.” He looked solemnly out over the waters. “Tarren, what do you remember of what happened on that ship? I mean, when I…when I helped you?”
Tarren’s face scrunched up in thought. “I remember pain, and falling. Then I saw nothing but blackness. Then your voice-you were angry-and a blue light.” His eyes were wide, and a new excitement entered his voice and demeanor.
“And then I felt the strangest thing I’ve ever felt in my life, or call me a liar. It was like when you know it’s your birthday soon and you can’t wait, or when you’ve eaten way too much candy. Inside you feel like you might explode. It was like being in the center of a screaming crowd, but all of their excitement is inside your body. I felt no pain, and before I knew what had happened, your friend picked me up and told me to hide below.” He looked upon Whill with puzzlement and wonder. “How did you do it, Whill?
He put a hand atop the boy’s head. “I don’t know, Tarren. I don’t know.”
CHAPTER TEN
Survivors
The night was cool, the ocean calm. The stars shone brightly in the heavens, untouchable diamonds of the night. To Whill it seemed that the ocean mocked the night sky, reflecting the stars with the same brilliance, but also making them dance and shimmer in a way that the sky never could. He stood at the bow, entranced, hands on the rail, mind drifting with the midnight sea. He was tired but
not hungry. He needed rest but could not sleep, not among those he felt he had wronged. Though he had been aboard the ship for three days now, he felt as though he had walked for weeks. His legs, back, arms, and even his mind ached. He knew he had not fully recovered, and was not sure how soon he would. Yet contemplating the length of time it would have taken Tarren to heal from his broken bones, Whill wondered how he himself had recovered so soon. Had the elf woman been real? Had she helped him along with some kind of magic, an energy healing of her own? Surely that was absurd, for they were hundreds of miles from Elladrindellia. She had been a dream figure and nothing more. But the more Whill thought of her, the more real she seemed. The way her hair hung low, her beautiful smile, her eyes….
Whill jumped back, startled, as Abram put his hand upon his shoulder, jerking him back to reality and the cool night air.
“Sorry, Whill, I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you alright?”
Whill let out a deep breath and gave Abram a weak smile. “I’m fine. I was just thinking.”
Abram gave him a pitying look. “Thinking of the Eldonian men? Whill, don’t beat yourself up, we had no choice in the-”
“No. Not about that. I was thinking of the elf woman I dreamed about last night.”
Abram looked puzzled. “What elf woman?”
Whill told him all about the dream in detail as Abram listened keenly. At the end of the story, Abram gave him a slight frown of puzzlement. “What was it she said to you?”
Whill thought for a moment. “Endalla orn, Whill, elan orna menon, lelalda wea shen ora. ‘Worry not, Whill, feel no pain, nothing can harm you.’ It was more like a chant, and when she said it all pain left my body and I was at peace, more at peace than I have ever felt. I could not only see and hear, I could feel her, inside. I could feel her energy within me pulsing, soothing. It felt so real.”
Abram regarded him, straight-faced. “It very well could have been real, Whill.”
Whill’s face lit up. To hear it from Abram gave the idea substance; made it seem like a real possibility.
“Elves have many powers that people do not and will never understand,” Abram said. “It is quite possible that what you experienced was indeed real. She may have helped you to heal in much the way you helped Tarren. If nothing else, your fast recovery may be proof of it.”
Whill was baffled. “But I know her not. I have never even met an elf. Who was she, and why would she help me?”
Abram looked at him the same way he always did when Whill asked this kind of question-Whill knew he held the answers, and also knew that he would not tell him. He looked at Abram with disappointment. “Let me guess: in the mountain.”
Abram sighed. “I am as tired of these secrets as you are. From your description I can only guess that she was one of Queen Araveal’s daughters. Which one I do not know, for they are all similar in appearance.”
Whill was not shocked to hear this; more so he was relieved to hear an explanation at all. “So this woman-princess-she knows me?”
“She does, as does the queen. Why she does is part of a tale I wish to tell you elsewhere. It will be less than a week before we reach Dy’Kore. Be patient, my friend.”
Whill laughed a tired laugh. “I’ve waited nineteen years what’s another few days?”
Tarren sounded a small bell mounted above the wheel. “The island, I see it!”
Abram took over the wheel as the Eldonians hurried onto the deck from below. Whill watched as the island drew closer. Even now, at night, he could see the vast beach and forest beyond. Abram steered them into the Eldon Pass, a waterway between the island and Eldalon. They sailed with the island to starboard for more than an hour and well into dawn. As the sun began to rise, the city of Do’Adore became visible. As they approached a large dock, where there was a fleet of small fishing boats, a great horn sounded from the trees, answered by another from within the city. Abram masterfully steered the ship gently to the dock, and an Eldonian man secured a line.
The city was not like any Whill had ever seen. It had no great buildings, and no barrier separating it from the surrounding land. It consisted of thousands of large huts, each with smoke coming from small chimneys. The huts were identical, though some were larger than others. This, Whill had learned while listening to the Eldonian men speak of their village, was only due to the size of each family living within. Social status was not reflected in the size of one’s home, or in the things one might own. Each person had a purpose, and each purpose was vital to the survival of the people. Whill wondered why more people didn’t live in this manner. While others fought viciously over things they did not need and in the end brought them no lasting joy, the Eldonians lived in harmony with their surroundings and each other, celebrating and sharing in good fortune, and mourning each other’s losses.
As the former slaves went down the ramp and onto the beaches, they were greeted by their kin. Sobbing and laughing jubilantly, they hugged, kissed, and held their families and friends who had thought them lost at sea.
Whill was reluctant to leave the ship, his guilt still weighing heavily on his heart. Abram came over to him. “Look, Whill, at the joy we have brought to so many people. If not for our actions, these people would never have returned. They would have died along with those other men. Don’t you see the good that has come from something so terrible? Those men would have died anyway, or been worked to death by Cirrosa and his men. If you would not have won that tournament, Cirrosa wouldn’t have pursued us. And these people would not have had a second chance at the life they love so. Everything happens for a reason, Whill. Take comfort in the joy you see before you.”
Whill knew Abram was right, and he told him so. Together with Tarren, they made their way onto the beach and were introduced by the Eldonians as the great saviors of the sea. Blushing and feeling very uncomfortable, Whill nevertheless accepted hugs from the Eldonian women. Most were dressed in long, hooded robes due to the morning chill, but some wore only cloths covering their genitals. The men carried long, thin spears, and some brandished swords.
The Eldonians insisted that Whill, Abram, and Tarren join them in a celebration meal. What Whill had expected to be a small breakfast turned out to be a grand feast and celebration that lasted late into the day. By the time they were ready to leave, the sun was beginning to set. The four surviving men and the chief walked them back to Old Charlotte, followed by what seemed to be the entire island population. As they approached the ship, the chief spoke.
“Once again, thank you for returning our people. We are forever in your debt and at your service. If ever you are in need, please, think of Eldon as an ally. You are welcome here eternally.” With that he bowed, as did the rest of the people of Eldon. Whill, Abram and Tarren bowed in return and made their way onto their ship. As they set sail once again with Abram at the wheel, Whill and Tarren watched as the people of Eldon waved happily after them. Night began to fall as the three companions sailed toward Sherna.
The deep blue sky made way for a blackened one and the stars awoke. They shone brightly in their heavenly realm, untouchable diamonds of the night. With the appearance of the stars also came a chill that rode on the whispering winds and clung to Whill’s bones like a long-lost love. Carrying an oil lantern, he went below to fetch his wolf-hide coat. It hung above his cot, which was now occupied by Tarren. The boy slept peacefully, a slight smile at the corner of his mouth. But to Whill he appeared too peaceful, too still, as though death had come back to reclaim him, to fulfill the fate which Whill had altered. He nudged Tarren on the shoulder, and to his relief the boy rolled over, mumbling something inaudible.
Satisfied, he pulled a blanket up to Tarren’s chin and took his coat before silently returning to the deck. Above, Abram was still at the wheel, sailing steadily east. Whill joined his friend and for a while they stood in comfortable silence, sailing by moonlight. They were lucky; they seemed to have the benefit of a full moon. Abram seemed mesmerized by the moon’s reflection upon the water. To Whil
l he looked more at peace than he had in a great while.
Noticing Whill staring at him, Abram simply smiled. “Is Tarren sleeping soundly?”
Whill turned his gaze to the water once more. “Out cold, He did have a long day.”
Abram laughed. “Didn’t we all. You should get some rest, Whill. You didn’t sleep last night. You must be tired.”
Whill shook his head. “No, I’m not, I’m wide awake. I guess having slept for two days has left me with plenty of energy for a while. I’ll take over for a bit, Abram. You haven’t slept, either. I’ll wake you at dawn. If this wind keeps steady we’ll be in Sherna well before noon, I’ll rest then.”
“Alright, Whill.” Abram gave him a pat on the back and stretched with a great yawn. Then he started for the sleeping quarters.
“Wait,” Whill said. “What do we do with Tarren? We can’t see him safely back to Fendale personally.”
Abram turned at the stair. “Do not forget, we have a wealth of diamonds. Once in Sherna we will find a good woman to look after him until we return from the mountains. Then we will go to Kell-Torey to meet with the king. He will see to it that Tarren finds safe passage back to Fendale. Worry not, Whill.” With that, he disappeared below, and left Whill alone with the moon and stars.
Whill took the wheel and once again let his mind drift with the waters. He thought of Tarren, and how amazing it still seemed that he had healed him. Only the elves had the power to heal with energy. If Whill was not of elven blood, then what could the explanation be? Also, if he could heal, what other powers did Whill possess? Could he also use his abilities to fight, to manipulate energy, as they did? The ocean held no answers. Only within the mountains would Whill find any revelation.
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