The Secrets of Brymar (The Elitherian Fragments Book 1)

by James Coy-Dibley

  “I’ve seen that flower so many times, but I didn’t know it could mask pain,” Richard admitted. “I’m only just learning alchemy, though by no means am I a master alchemist. I hope to reach that status one day, though.”

  “I know much about alchemy,” Victoria said, “because I have a great teacher. Perhaps I can teach you a few things.”

  “That would be wonderful,” he said as he hopped off the horse for her. She jumped back on and hoisted him up behind her again. He sighed. “I doubt I’ll be seeing my teacher in Forelorne again.”

  “You never know what lies ahead, Richard.” She spurred the horse forward. “If almost five hundred years of life have taught me anything, it’s that life as a whole is anything but predictable.”

  Richard murmured in acknowledgment and felt his horse adamantly complain about moving. “My horse struggles with both of us on his back,” he said, patting his horse’s side. “He’ll struggle to ride far, especially in the dark.”

  “I can direct him,” Victoria said. “I see well with the moonlight.”

  They trotted over the bumpy, dry dirt, the only sound being the clapping of the horse’s hooves. A large bump almost sent Richard off the horse. He clung onto Victoria, slightly blushing after loosening his grip, unsure of whether to keep hold or not. She didn’t respond to him, and he dared not speak. He’d never ridden behind someone else before; his thighs barely wrapped around hers and his front pushed against hers, the bow on her back the only barrier between them. The bumpy terrain made not holding on very difficult, and, after almost falling off the horse again, he finally broke the silence.

  “I don’t have anything to hold onto back here,” he said quietly. “Do you mind if I hold onto you?”

  “Of course not,” Victoria answered. “Now isn’t the time for manners, is it?”

  “Very well,” Richard answered nervously while deciding where to grab her. At first he reached for her hips before retracting his hands. He started to sweat a bit and finally opted to hold onto her shoulders, awkwardly sitting upright and almost pulling them both off of the horse. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m not sure where…”

  “My hips,” Victoria calmly answered. “It’s fine.” Richard gently held onto her hips, stabilizing the ride. “Your hands are sweating,” she commented, and he blushed.

  “They were sweating well-before this ride,” Richard indignantly asserted.

  “Yes, of course.”

  Richard didn’t respond, and they rode in silence.

  The smell of the forest slowly dampened the further they rode, finally replaced altogether by the cool morning air carried by the gentle breeze. With each sound Richard flinched, whether it was a distant howl or something else. His sword hung attached to his belt, providing a small sense of security. With her bow on her back, Richard decided to scrutinise it a bit to pass the time, admiring the intricate carvings and delicate designs. A few symbols lined the surface, and he leaned in closer to take a look. He soon realised this was a bad idea, as a bump in the terrain sent his head forward and into the bow – a little closer than he’d bargained for.

  “Are you alright?” she asked after feeling his head bump her.

  “Yes, yes, I’m fine,” Richard muttered while rubbing his forehead in embarrassment. “I looked at your bow a bit too closely and hit my head.”

  Victoria laughed to herself.

  “Where is this bow from?” he asked, ignoring her amusement. “I’ve never seen wood like this.”

  “My father gave it to me, too,” she answered solemnly. “It’s made of wood from the Voriskan Forest, the one that surrounds the Vorshkir Kingdom. You can’t find it around here. And to make a bow like this requires the magic of my people.” She paused. “My father made it himself.”

  “With magic?” Richard repeated. “Like the kind you used in Orwell?”

  “Yes.”

  “What did your father do to it?”

  “He used magic to form the bow itself. It will never break.”

  “That’s impressive,” Richard said while taking another close look. “Your father sounds like he’s a powerful mage.”

  “Yes, very. He’s a Dravorkan Mage.”

  “That word sounds familiar. I think I’ve heard it before, but I can’t remember exactly where.”

  “The Vorshkir Kingdom sent four Dravorkans to aide in the Natavarn Wars. My father was one of them. Perhaps you heard the word during your studies of history.”

  “Maybe, though I didn’t pay much attention to my history studies.” He shrugged. “So what makes him special?”

  “He’s an unusual kind of Eranite as he’s mastered the variant of magic my people wield. It’s called Dra’cordar, which you witnessed me use in Orwell.”

  “Are you not a Dravorkan, too, then?”

  “The title is not a birth right,” Victoria answered. “It is earned, but I left the kingdom before my training completed. I had at least another three centuries to go.”

  Richard gasped. “Three centuries,” he repeated. “I can’t imagine being in my studies for three centuries! That’s so long.”

  “Not in the life of an Eranite.” She sighed. “I left after only a century of training, so I never finished.”

  “Why’d you leave?”

  “I didn’t,” she said. “My father wanted me to leave.”

  Richard didn’t know how to respond, hearing the pain in her voice.

  “But that’s a story for another time,” she said.

  “Well, you’re always welcome in Brymar,” he mumbled.

  “Thank you,” she said, though Richard could sense her sadness. She pointed in front of her. “I see the road ahead.”

  Richard let go of her hips and sat back; even he could feel how sweaty his palms were now. “It will be good to ride on smoother terrain,” he said while patting the horse.

  “Yes,” she agreed. “And this road will lead us to Skee.”

  “Will we be there before the others?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “We will have to ride cautiously through the surrounding areas before we reach the village, and we have no way of knowing if the same creatures in Orwell have infiltrated them, too.”

  He didn’t respond as he considered her words. His chest tightened at the thought.

  “The next small village should be coming up soon…”

  “I’m afraid,” Richard interrupted from behind her; he couldn’t believe he’d even said the words aloud.

  Victoria slowed the horse to a standstill, leaving the two of them sitting in silence.

  Richard stuttered. “I…” his hands started to sweat even more, “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

  “It is understandable that you are afraid,” Victoria comforted as she spoke over her shoulder. “It is not until we face life-or-death that we discover what fear truly is and the power it possesses over us.”

  “I suppose I’ve never truly experienced fear until today.”

  “But fear keeps you alive,” she said.

  “You never seem afraid,” Richard commented. “When I saw you fighting in Orwell, you never showed hesitation or fear.”

  “I was terrified,” Victoria corrected. “I was afraid that I would let Elizabeth down, my father, that the stone would be taken and that this realm would die. I feared what would happen to my friend if I fell in battle, what would happen to everyone in that room. It is that fear that drove me to fight harder. Courage is driven be fear; the only difference between the two is whether the person wields the fear or allows it to control them.”

  Richard processed her words. “I’ve been more afraid for my brothers than for myself. I remember when the fighting started just outside of the forest, when Elizabeth first ran from those trees and I could see all of the creatures following her, my first thought was how disappointed William would be when he found out that I’d failed to reach Forelorne; how guilty he would feel for letting me leave, how selfish I’d been with putting him in that situation in the f
irst place. I thought it would be an opportunity to grow up, but instead it just put my whole family at risk.” He paused, shaking his head. “That’s when I first experienced fear, when I felt disappointment within myself.”

  Victoria reached behind her and patted his knee for comfort. “Perhaps the journey did change you.” She removed her hand and faced in front of them again, pushing them forward again on the horse. “You now recognise the true feeling of being alive and the fear of death. Not just the fears regarding yourself, but the impacts on others.”

  Richard nodded as he shuddered. “I believe you are right.”

  He stayed quiet while pondering their conversation but struggled to stay awake after some time of riding. The rhythmic patter of horse hooves, the chilly but gentle breeze, and the calmness of the quite night all provided a comforting, serene lullaby with the moonlit landscape. Fatigue struck him, and he found himself dozing off, only to awaken quickly as his head bumped into her shoulder. But she didn’t say anything about it.

  “So why’d your father want you to leave?” he asked, his curiosity and age winning over formalities. He’d asked the question while half-asleep, but woke up completely after the last word. “If you don’t mind me asking,” he regretfully added at the end.

  Victoria hesitated. “For purpose,” she answered. “Or, at least, that’s what my father told me.”

  The answer didn’t make much sense to him, but he dared not ask more on the topic.

  “I didn’t know the purpose at the time,” she continued. “But with time comes purpose; right now my purpose is to ensure that we make it to Skee safely and that this stone doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”

  Richard again didn’t press any further, instead opting to change the subject. “How much have you travelled in your time then?”

  “So many places I couldn’t count them. I’ve had many years to wander the different regions.”

  “Do you have a favourite?”

  She shrugged. “I like many of them for different reasons. The Sumnersen Plains have some of the most impressive forests that connect to those outside of my homeland. The Raldari Province contains the most beautiful landscapes, in my opinion, as everything is always so green there. Their streams run perfectly clear and the cities extend to the clouds.”

  “I’d love to go there one day,” he interrupted.

  “Perhaps you will,” she smiled. “Their cities match even the greatness and beauty of Orwell.” She thought more to herself before continuing. “But be warned that the people don’t share the same beauty as the landscapes or cities.”

  “They are ugly?”

  “No,” Victoria shook her head in amusement. “They can be quite rude, especially to strangers. The Elenwyres from the Raldari Province are a proud race, often blinded by that very pride.”

  “I’ve met an Elenwyre before,” he said, “in Orwell. He seemed friendly enough and proudly spoke of how beautiful the Raldari Province is.”

  “Well, of course, not all of them are the same,” she said.

  Richard nodded, trying to imagine what the landscapes of the Raldari Province could look like. He closed his eyes, but soon regretted it as fatigue struck again. His eyes drooped until he could barely open them. “I’m exhausted,” he uttered.

  “So am I.”

  “I can’t wait to feel the warm sheets of my bed back in Brymar.”

  “We are a long ways away from Brymar,” she cautioned.

  “I know.” Richard yawned as he stretched his arms. “This is the first time in traveling to Orwell that I’ve truly felt far away from home.”

  “Missing home is another powerful driving force,” she said.

  “Yes, it is.” He paused. “I can only imagine how powerful it is for you.”

  She didn’t respond at first, and Richard could see her thinking. “I miss my father and home,” she said, breaking her silence. “Four centuries can make the feeling more manageable, but no less distressing.”

  “Have you tried to go back?”

  “Yes, many times. I could never find the entrance, and my abilities proved too weak to reveal the way.”

  Richard could sense her disappointment. “I’m sure you’ll be able to go back and see your father someday.”

  “I hope.”

  A howl from further up the road made Richard jump, and he jolted forward. He could feel Victoria’s body tensing, her muscular shoulders reaching for an arrow and preparing her bow. After stopping the horse, they sat there for a moment, listening for any signs of life ahead. She hooked an arrow onto the string and waited to hear another howl. Richard reached for his sword from his side, and both of them scrutinised the surroundings.

  “I don’t see anything,” he said as he held onto his sword’s handle. He sensed the familiar feeling of fear returning.

  “But I can hear them.”

  “Who…who can you hear?”

  “Voices up ahead, but I can’t understand the language.” She leaned forward, as if a few centimetres would improve her hearing – then again, Richard wondered if it actually did. “I’ve never heard this tongue before.”

  “What do we do?” Another loud noise emanated from ahead, followed by a deathly chilling screech, before falling silent again. “I think someone just died,” Richard muttered under his breath, his hand still firmly gripping his sword’s hilt.

  “We should proceed.”

  “Towards it? You want to go towards those sounds?”

  “Yes.” A quiet horn emanated from ahead. “I recognise that call,” Victoria said, already moving the horse forward. “My friend awaits us.”

  Richard shook his head. “Very well,” he muttered. “I trust you.”

  Chapter XX

  Adriana rode at the front of the group with her brother beside her, their brilliant white horses trotting along the roadside. The further from Orwell they went, the more barren their surroundings became; for many of the nearby communities, they’d spotted a few farmers in the fields, who’d stared at them with the same suspicion as before. Adriana couldn’t help but wonder what would happen to these people after the enemy knew they’d escaped Orwell.

  It wouldn’t be long before the deep orange rays of the rising sun would appear in the horizon to the north. Adriana had refused to ride at the back this time, Rachel taking that honour, and demanded that she ride next to Brian.

  “What are you thinking?” Adriana asked her brother. He hadn’t said anything during the entire ride.

  “I’m not sure,” he replied. “I keep seeing that image in my head, the blue flames and arrows in that creature’s back and through its throat.”

  Adriana didn’t respond.

  “You know why I’m thinking about it,” he said to her.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Do you think Max knows?”

  Adriana nodded. “I’m sure he sees the similarities. How could he not?” She paused. “But he was very young back then.”

  “So were we – only fifteen at the time.” Brian paused and looked into his sister’s eyes. “Adriana,” he said quietly, “I’ve never heard you scream like that before.”

  “I was afraid,” she brushed off. “I thought you were going to die.”

  Brian nodded. “I would’ve done the same were our places switched.”

  “You would’ve screamed as I did?” she shot back, forcing a shallow smile.

  “Well…perhaps with a lower octave,” he corrected.

  Her expression hardened and she reached her hand out to pat his shoulder. “I couldn’t help but be afraid, Brian. It’s never been that close before.”

  “But I’m okay,” he assured, seeing the concern in his sister’s eyes.

  “Yes, you are,” she told herself, tensing her face to hide her emotion. “I wonder who the figure in the caverns was. I know of no one who should’ve been down there.”

  “I’m thankful for whomever it was.”

  “Did you see the person at all?”

  He shrugged. �
��Only their feet, nothing more, but black boots and a cloak covered their legs. The arrow had white feathers on a black shaft. I couldn’t see anything else.”

  “I wonder how the flames didn’t hurt him.”

  Brian shook his head. “I wish I knew the answers.”

  “I’m sure Aroden noticed the similarity, too,” Adriana said.

  “I have no doubt that he did.”

  Brian took a quick glance over his shoulder to check on everyone behind him. They’d been riding for a while now, having to slow every time a cloud passed over the moons and plunged the world into darkness. Their sluggish pace and lack of conversation attested to their miserable fatigue; Zed had even dozed and almost fallen off his horse earlier, and William actually did fall off of his horse, only to be caught by Max riding beside him. But Brian remained alert, as did most of the others, constantly surveying the landscape and doing everything possible to stay awake, whether that be forcing adrenaline to flow or by striking a conversation with each other. Brian saw William falling asleep again, and Max nudged him in the shoulder.

  “How much longer?” William mumbled to his brother as he jolted awake, his eyes barely open. “We’ve been riding for so long already.”

  “Skee lies on the other side of those trees ahead,” Max said while pointing at a dark shadowed patch in the distance. “That’s where we hid the horses when we visited yesterday.”

  “That’s not too far then,” he said in relief.

  “It’s pretty far,” Max replied, looking at the small shadow on the horizon. “The flatness of these lands distorts depth perception. The sun will be rising before we reach it.”

  William grumbled to himself but quickly stopped after noticing Elizabeth watching him. A cloud covered the moon, forcing everyone to practically halt the horses. “Well, this will slow us down,” he said. “I can’t see anything.”

  “Quiet,” Adriana ordered from the front, looking to her brother. “We must listen for any movement.”

  The silence frightened the horses; William could hear Windrunner’s breathing and heart beat quicken, more so than usual, and felt him turn to face their left flank. Both of the twin’s horses did the same, as did most of the other horses. Everyone waited at the centre of the road without a thing in sight – until Adriana spotted them, the same burning beady red eyes she’d spotted before. They stared at them, unremitting and tormenting, and then quickly disappeared as quickly as they came. The clouds moved, uncovering the moon once more, and all of them stood frozen.