The Secrets of Brymar (The Elitherian Fragments Book 1)

by James Coy-Dibley

  “How do you know of our home?” Max demanded. “You can read all of the texts and speak of it as though you’ve spent much time there.”

  “It’s actually my home,” Thrix asserted. “I’d lived there since the beginning of time until you took residence.”

  “Your home,” Max repeated, letting the information sink in. He looked at Thrix. “Then why’d you leave?”

  Thrix involuntarily shot a glance to William before he briefly focused on Aroden. “The reasons are my own. All that matters is the stone, but I will say no more under my oath to the Master Architect.” He paused. “We cannot stay here much longer,” Thrix added. “Invaders from the North advance further South than ever before. Once word reaches their leaders that the stone travels South, they will surely follow. This stone must be returned to Brymar to impede their advance and prevent the fall of this realm.”

  “But I must take the stone to Tolin,” Elizabeth declared. “That was the agreement, that was what my father wanted.”

  “I don’t know a Tolin, and I will not trust him with the stone,” Thrix stated, “it must travel to Brymar.”

  “We agreed that…”

  “At the time, I needed to deceive you, make you believe that was the intended plan,” Thrix asserted. “Please, you must understand the gravity of our predicament. You must understand, Elizabeth.”

  “I…”

  “Come,” Victoria interrupted, staring directly into Elizabeth’s eyes, conveying a message of support. Elizabeth recognised it and fell silent while Victoria continued. “The road to Brymar is a long one. The sooner we leave the better.”

  “The stone,” Thrix said as he reached his hand out towards Victoria.

  “I will carry it,” Victoria lied, shooting another sly glance to Elizabeth to keep her quiet. “The stone is safe with me,” she said while pretending to pat a bulge in her dress, “you need not worry about it.”

  Max removed the ring from his hand. “You can definitely take this back then,” he said while dropping it into Thrix’s extended hand. “I certainly won’t be wearing it anymore.”

  “What about us?” Porter called from the back of the inn, and everyone turned. He stood in the doorway leading to the back of the inn, anxiously wringing his hands. “What will we do without water? What will happen to Skee?”

  Aroden sighed.

  “And what will I do without the missus?” he added. “She won’t survive long without water, and I can’t leave her here.”

  Elizabeth walked to the back of the inn. “Let me see her,” she quietly said while gently putting a hand on his shoulder.

  “Why?”

  “I’m a healer,” she answered, “an Altoaran from the Woodland Kingdom. Let me see your loved one.”

  Porter’s eyes lit up with renewed hope. “This way,” he said.

  He led her into his living quarters, which included only two rooms at the back of the inn, both of which lacked decoration and design with barren walls and cob-webs scattered along the crevices. William decided to follow closely behind while the rest quarrelled in the inn. The small hallway was lined with wooden boards on all sides with a single room at the end, a window shining the morning sunlight through the dirty glass panes. Porter held a small candle but extinguished it after reaching the cramped doorway at the end, turning to face Elizabeth and waving to disperse the smoke behind them.

  “The smoke makes her cough,” he said while placing the candle on a small table just inside the doorway.

  The back room housed a small wooden table beneath the window with several parchments on top of it, an ink well and quiver next to them, and a couple of dusty books on either side. The wooden chair probably outdated the entire village with cracking legs and a splintering backrest. Elizabeth followed Porter into the room and saw the huge bed to the right, where a large woman lay bed ridden beneath a thin sheet staring back at them with fearful eyes. Against the other wall was their dresser, where a couple of shirts and pants lay strewn across the two racks. Elizabeth noticed a metal bucket beside the bed, stained from use, and looked to Porter with empathy.

  “She can’t speak,” he muttered quietly, “but she can hear.”

  “Do you know the illness?” Elizabeth asked.

  “No,” he said. A small tear formed in his eye. “I haven’t heard her voice in over two months,” he mumbled. “She has such a beautiful voice, you know.”

  The woman looked up at them with sorrowful, pain-ridden eyes. She lay perfectly still but could still move her eyes. Porter walked up beside her and held her hand, leaning closer before speaking slowly and clearly.

  “She’s a healer, my love,” he said, and the woman’s eyes filled with the same hope as in his. “She’s going to try and make you better.”

  “I will try,” Elizabeth cautioned both of them. “She’s a very sick woman, and I’m no master healer.”

  “But you give us hope,” Porter responded, and Elizabeth nodded.

  William stood back to watch.

  Elizabeth took the woman’s hand, and both of their eyes began to glow a brilliant, light green. Vibrant, light green strands flowed from the sick woman into Elizabeth’s palm, sparkling with silver specks as it flowed between skins. Elizabeth grimaced as the disease entered her body; William tried to stand behind her in case she fell again and watched in awe, being careful not to touch her. A high pitch ringing bounced around the room as Porter watched his wife closely, alternating between Elizabeth and her. As his wife’s colour returned to her face, the colour left Elizabeth’s; after some time, the two men focused more on Elizabeth with worry as her health deteriorated in seconds.

  She released the woman’s hand and propelled backwards, a small moan of pain leaving her sickly pink lips. William prevented her fall by catching her, and she quickly recovered her footing; he’d predicted correctly that she’d fall backwards and was relieved he’d thought of it, recalling their time in Orwell when she healed Rachel. Her colour slowly returned, and the grimace faded from her face, replaced by the same blank expression she usually displayed for the rest of the world. William inspected her for any way to help as she hyperventilated and keeled over in pain.

  “Are you alright?” he asked as soon as she started to breathe more normally, her eyes staring back into his.

  “Yes…I’m fine,” she said, her voice quivering. Her hand met his, and she paused. “That hurt me a lot.”

  “Missus,” Porter said as he leaned over his wife. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. The moment she squeezed it back, he practically dropped to his knees in surprise and joy, tears forming in his eyes as he stared into hers. “Can you hear me, my love? Can you hear me?”

  His wife’s other arm briefly moved, as did one of her legs, and with wide eyes she stared directly into Elizabeth’s light green eyes while speaking to her husband. “Yes,” she quietly mumbled as her voice gradually returned. “I hear you, my love.”

  Chapter XXV

  Porter stared at Elizabeth with his wife. “You brought her back to me,” he wept, “after all of this time, you’ve brought her back!”

  “Thank you,” the woman said, her voice strengthening.

  “You are welcome,” Elizabeth responded quietly. She tried to stand but stumbled a bit before sitting down again in the rickety wooden chair beside the door. “Your name,” she said as she found a comfortable spot, “what is it?”

  “Bridget,” the woman answered timidly and took a deep breath. “It’s been some time since I could say my own name. I feared I’d forgotten how to speak. I truly can’t thank you enough for returning my voice and health.”

  “It’s a wonder!” Porter exclaimed, his jaw yet to close. He leaned right overtop his wife’s face and stared into her glassy eyes. “How do you feel, my love? Does your strength return to you?”

  “Yes,” Bridget answered with a grin. “I can feel my body…regaining the will to move again.”

  “Don’t rush it,” Elizabeth advised, sitting perfectly still in the chair w
ith her hands resting on the arm rests. Her colour had yet to fully return. “You were very weak from the disease. Even though the disease is gone, it’ll take some time for the strength to fully come back.”

  Bridget nodded.

  “Your gift is incredible,” William said as he hovered close to the chair. “It’s such a power to be able to heal another.”

  “It’s a privilege not taken lightly.” Elizabeth smiled, but it faltered as her gaze dropped to the floorboards. “Not everyone can be healed, though,” she mumbled to herself as she retreated into her mind. “My father taught me that lesson.”

  Porter jumped to his feet, focused solely on Bridget. “I must tell Aroden immediately!” he exclaimed. Before he could leave, his wife quickly grabbed his hand.

  “I’ll join you,” she excitedly smiled. “I’ll need help out of bed, though.”

  “Are you…”

  “I haven’t left this bed for months,” Bridget firmly said. “I’ll take it slowly, but I want to see what you’ve done to the place. I’m amazed you didn’t burn it down!”

  Porter extended an arm to her, and she took her first step out of the bed. Like two giddy children, they embraced each other the moment she managed to stand; somewhat swaying side-to-side and almost falling back into the bed, she regained her balance and stood by herself on both feet, her bare toes wiggling on the cold wooden floor. The energy in her eyes, in Porter’s eyes, brought a smile to William’s face. He couldn’t help but admire their aura of hope and joy, their excitement for life. Elizabeth noticed his smile and smiled too as they watched the couple kiss.

  “To feel your touch once more,” Porter said as they approached the door, holding hands tightly. “For you to squeeze my hand back, that’s all I’ve wished for.”

  They slowly walked out of the room and towards everyone else. William looked to Elizabeth, who calmly sat in the chair. He could see her smile fading. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” she quickly replied, though her watery eyes said otherwise.

  He sat on the bed and stared into her light green eyes. “I see the sadness.”

  “I’m thinking of my father,” she responded, wiping a tear from her eye. “The image of his final moments haunts my thoughts.”

  He stayed quiet.

  “I think he would’ve been impressed, even proud, with what I just did,” she said through the tears. “I probably wasn’t ready to heal a disease, but I did it.”

  “Yes, you did,” William repeated, seeing the grief finally catching up to her. “Right in front of us all, you healed a woman with a deadly disease and brought hope back into their lives. You did that.”

  She exhaled sharply and closed her eyes. “It hurt,” she mumbled while recalling the feeling. “It hurt so much more than all of the others I’ve healed.”

  “I saw you grimace,” William said.

  Elizabeth nodded, wiping the tears away. “I feared I’d pass out, as if the light in me was failing.” She paused. “It probably was careless,” she thought aloud while feeling the stone, “but I couldn’t leave Bridget in that state.” She shuddered again, closing her eyes. “Healing a disease is very different from a superficial wound.”

  “I wouldn’t understand,” he admitted, looking at the ground. “All this magic is new to me and the others.”

  “You’ll see much more of it on the road to Durk’helm,” Elizabeth said, slowly standing from the chair and her expression hardening as she focused on her objective. “We’ll be passing close to the Raldari Province.”

  “But Thrix said…”

  “I’m going to Durk’helm,” Elizabeth declared. She patted the stone in her dress and met William’s questioning gaze.

  “You have it?”

  “Yes. I will meet Tolin as planned, as my father wanted. I don’t know who to trust, Thrix or Tolin, but I know that Durk’helm is the key. It is the source of Zed’s book and where more answers lie,” she said, her gaze unwavering. “Don’t try to stop me from doing this, William.”

  “I would never,” he said, shaking his head. “I would want to help you. I want to be a part of this.”

  Elizabeth’s face softened. “Your father would be furious, as would your brothers. They would surely stop you.”

  “They would have to understand,” William said, surprised by his own words. He wiped the worry from his mind. “I feel strongly about this. Durk’helm clearly holds the answers.”

  She nodded, struggling to stand still.

  William approached her to help her balance, gently taking her hand, his bare skin touching her soft palm. He noticed her eyes briefly widen and glow a light green as if she were healing someone else. She squeezed his hand tightly, and William noticed barely visible green streaks connecting their two hands with sparkling white specks dancing around, moving from her hand into his. After a few moments, she let go of him and took a step back, the streaks disappearing and her eyes returning to their natural beauty. She looked at him in bewilderment and glanced to their hands.

  “What’s wrong?” William asked.

  “I…I’m not sure,” she muttered to herself while inspecting her hands and body. She stood up straight. “My strength is back.”

  “Isn’t that a good thing?”

  “Yes, but…how?” she paused, thinking to herself. “Once again, I felt something when you touched my hand that I couldn’t understand. An…energy of sorts, one that I’ve never encountered before you. I thought I felt it as we escaped Orwell, too, when you took my hand as I came out of the caverns.”

  William shrugged. “I don’t understand.”

  “Neither do I,” she said, slightly shaken. “It’s as if you…healed me just now.”

  “How’s that possible? I’m no healer, I know that much,” William argued.

  “I don’t know.” She looked as puzzled as he did. “But I feel stronger than before.”

  William saw his brother and Victoria walking towards them down the hallway. They walked through the doorway, the weary bags under Max’s eyes growing by the moment. “We prepare to leave Skee,” he announced calmly to them. It appeared as though he’d collapse from exhaustion at any second. “Is everything alright in here?”

  “Yes, absolutely,” William answered and diverted his attention away from Elizabeth. “She healed Bridget.”

  “I know,” Max said and laughed to himself. “They’re currently dancing around out there.” But his grin faded as Thrix stared down the hallway at them.

  Victoria glanced at Max to divert his attention. “Thrix’s deception worries me,” she said quietly. “He refuses to take the stone to Durk’helm and claims it as his own for Brymar.”

  “You no longer trust him?” Max whispered back, his hand reaching for the hilt of his sword. “You said he was a friend.”

  “He is,” Victoria sternly replied. “But I realise how little I truly know about him, even after almost four centuries together.” She paused, keeping an eye on Thrix in her periphery. She could feel her anger building. “How could he not tell me that he’s an Eternal? And then we find out that he’s the true owner of Brymar, your home. It doesn’t make sense.”

  Thrix started walking down the hallway towards them, and Victoria stood. “We wait for Elizabeth’s strength to return,” she said to Thrix as he entered.

  “Of course,” he said with a distant grin. “Healing will fatigue you.”

  The grin made Max uncomfortable. “I’m going to ensure the Arraci are prepared to leave.”

  “Brian and Adriana are back in the inn, now,” Thrix said.

  “Good,” Max said before leaving.

  “I’ll come with you,” Victoria said, but Thrix stopped her.

  “Here,” he said, handing the silver ring to her. “Wear this,” he ordered. “It will give me peace of mind if I know where to find you.”

  She stared at the ring briefly, a prisoner’s token at this point, before taking it and putting it on. “A good idea,” she obediently agreed as she left the room with o
nly Thrix and the other two in there.

  “The stone must go to Brymar,” Thrix repeated, staring into Elizabeth’s eyes. “You must understand this.”

  Elizabeth nodded, as did William.

  He walked out of the room.

  “He’s a dangerous enemy to make,” William commented. “Are you sure he’s not right about going to Brymar? He is an Eternal after all.”

  Elizabeth remained silent, crestfallen.

  William sighed. “But as we agreed, Durk’helm is where the answers are.” He stood up. “We should go out there, though. I suspect he’s already suspicious of you.”

  They left the bedroom and met with the others. Everyone looked exhausted, even the twins, but each of them stood around and watched as Porter and his wife enjoyed themselves. It represented a quiet hope and restored morale. At least one good thing came from this nightmare. As Aroden saw the two of them emerge, he took a step towards the centre of the room and raised his arms.

  “Quiet,” he demanded, and the noises ceased. “We make way for the safety of Brymar,” he declared. “Brian and Adriana, are the Arraci ready?”

  “Yes,” Brian replied. “They await your signal.”

  “What of the townspeople?” Porter asked as his attention shifted from his wife. “Will you not take them?”

  Aroden’s heart ached. “It would be too dangerous, and slow. There are not enough horses. It would not be possible to take everyone.”

  Bridget sighed, her elevated mood plummeting. She patted her husband on the shoulder. “We’ve been given more time together,” she muttered. “What more could we ask for, my love?”

  “Come with us,” Aroden appealed to Porter again. “Make the journey to Brymar. All of your service over the past few years, what you’ve done for me and my family, it deserves to be rewarded.”

  Porter looked around the inn with saddened eyes. “But our whole life is here.”

  “Start again in Brymar,” Zed said from the back of the inn. “I left my life in Orwell. It’s what you do to survive, my friend. Better times lie ahead.”