The Secrets of Brymar (The Elitherian Fragments Book 1)

by James Coy-Dibley

  “He left,” Aroden repeated as he fidgeted with his hands. He inhaled sharply. “He actually left.”

  “Father, he needed…”

  “I understand,” Aroden interrupted. “He needed answers that I could not provide.”

  “Yes,” Max nodded, taken aback by his calmness.

  “He took no one else?”

  “No,” Max said, “only Elizabeth. And they have the map.”

  “And the stone?”

  Max nodded.

  “Thrix will…”

  “Victoria will mislead him,” Max interrupted. “He still believes that she has the stone.”

  Aroden shook his head, his hand raised over his eyes. “Well, I suppose we continue to Brymar, then. He’s far from here by now.”

  “Yes, father,” Max mumbled. “What do we tell Richard? William doesn’t want him to know the truth yet.”

  He shrugged. “Tell him whatever comes to mind,” he answered. “He won’t understand, but his belief in his brother will remain strong.”

  Max turned to leave but paused. “I spoke with him before he left. I tried to stop him at first, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

  “I’m not sure I could have done it either,” Aroden said. “Once his mind is set upon something, there’s little anyone can do to change it.”

  Max nodded in agreement, “I’ll speak with Richard,” he mumbled. “And father,” he said before turning to leave. “He wanted you to know this wasn’t in spite of you, that he’s proud to be your son.”

  Aroden nodded, a sad smile covering his face. “A prouder father does not exist,” he muttered, and Max walked away.

  The camp burst into a chaotic movement of people. Brian now stood beside his horse with the other Arraci that helped carry bread and water, handing it out to everyone while eating a piece for himself. Adriana approached Orthol and Gringal at the front, motioning for them to come back to the camp to leave. Porter and his wife slowly made their way to collect some food, the lack of sleep evident from the dark circles under their eyes. Bridget’s health still remained, though; it seemed she walked faster than Porter, now, as he struggled to keep up with her hand pulling him along.

  “Richard,” Max said as he stopped beside his brother, who sleepily lay on the ground with a piece of bread in one hand and his eyes still closed.

  “What,” he barked back, his eyes barely opening. He’d clearly tricked Adriana into thinking he was awake, but then laid down again the moment she left.

  “I need to tell you something.” He sat down next to him.

  “What is it?”

  Lilia walked up behind them and looked at Max. “Why did William have to leave us?”

  Richard’s eyes popped open and he surveyed the surroundings. “What do you mean?” he said to the girl, now wide awake. His eyes focused on Max’s. “Max, where’s William?”

  “He travels to Durk’helm with Elizabeth,” he slowly muttered. “They left during the night.”

  “But when will he be back?” Lilia continued. “Will he be gone for long?”

  Richard didn’t respond, his eyes wide.

  “I’m not sure, but he’ll be back.” Max paused. “We’ll take care of you, Lilia, don’t worry,” he said to the girl and noticed Victoria walking up to them.

  Richard spoke up. “Why?” he demanded. “Why would he leave on his own?”

  “He had his reasons,” Max muttered.

  He stood up. “I don’t know why he’d do it,” Richard angrily declared. “He didn’t even wake me before leaving. What if he doesn’t come back?”

  “He will come back,” Max firmly asserted, “of course he will.”

  Richard shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

  They spotted Thrix walking towards them, his huge stature dwarfing everyone else around him. Max looked to Victoria. “I don’t know if I can tell another person that he’s gone,” he muttered and Victoria nodded.

  “Thrix,” Victoria said and she walked towards him.

  “They left to Durk’helm, didn’t they?” he furiously exclaimed, a few of the Arraci around him even grasping their weapons. His eyes faintly glowed red. “They disobeyed my direct order not to leave, and I even find that the map is missing!”

  “They took it with them…”

  “Obviously,” Thrix interrupted, the rage in his eyes even causing Victoria to step away. “If they took the stone, too, I’m…”

  “I have it,” Victoria assured, pulling out the small black bag for display. “It’s still with us.”

  “Let me see it.”

  “You do not believe…”

  “Open it!” he ordered.

  She quickly opened the bag to display the ovular black stone with silver streaks vibrating all around it, an illusion that impressed even her. “There,” she muttered, staring at his eyes in the hopes he’d believe it. “I still safely carry the stone.”

  Thrix sighed, his glare turning to Aroden. “Fine,” he said to himself. His eyes fixated on Victoria. “Give it to me.”

  “I wish to carry it,” Victoria countered. “I will keep it safe.”

  He stared into her eyes as she returned the bag to within a fold in her dark blue dress, deciding whether to challenge her. Max stood next to her, as did several of the other Arraci. His anger dissipated. “We travel to Brymar now. No more delays; this stone must return to its rightful place before any more of the invaders show up.”

  She nodded and lied. “I agree.”

  He strutted away from them, the ground slightly vibrating with each step, towards his brown horse on the side of the camp. Victoria exhaled sharply, her shoulders relaxing and closing her eyes. Max came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder, but he noticed Adriana watching them closely and removed his hand. Victoria turned to face him and shook her head.

  “It worked,” she quietly said. “He believed it.”

  “I hope it’s the right thing to do,” Max said.

  “Me too.”

  Max’s gaze stared at the ground. “The ring,” he said. “William wanted me to wear it to know that we reached Brymar.”

  She removed it and handed it to him. “Here,” she said. “It will keep the two of you connected.”

  “What’s going on,” Richard asked from behind them as Max put on the ring, “what are you talking about with him believing something?”

  Max turned to his brother. “William and Elizabeth have the stone, little brother. They take it to Durk’helm.”

  Chapter XXXI

  “The sun rises,” Elizabeth said, seeing the northern horizon to her left.

  The two of them trotted down a narrow, light brown dirt road, the landscape around them slowly morphing along their journey with more dry trees and the appearance of short brown grass flanking the path. William slowed to a walking pace, and patted his horse on the neck. At least the cool air kept them from overheating, but a trip this arduous without rest would tire any horse. William, who hadn’t said much during their trip so far, waited for Elizabeth to look at him.

  “Yes,” he muttered to himself while glancing to the northern sunrise. “They should be halfway to Brymar by now.”

  She didn’t respond.

  He could hear his horse panting as they walked. “We’ll need to rest soon. I’m not sure if Windrunner can go much further.” Elizabeth reached her hand out but William protectively raised his hand over his friend’s head. “Surely there’s a limit to how often you can rejuvenate them,” he asserted.

  “Yes,” she said, withdrawing her hand. “But the next town isn’t far away from here. We’ll be able to reach it before midday, and then we can rest there.”

  “Very well,” he muttered before removing his hand. He thought aloud, looking to the sky as Elizabeth began to reach over. “I’m sure they’ll be in Brymar by sunrise tomorrow.”

  Her expression hardened and she retracted her hand again. “You speak only of family and Brymar, now. Do you regret accompanying me?”

&n
bsp; The tone took him by surprise. He stared into her light green eyes, his jaw locked and sweat on his forehead. He thought again of his family and their journey to Brymar, the great halls of his home and the comfort, the safety it brought. He thought of the disappointment on his father’s face, and the hurt Max surely expressed as he left. Lilia would’ve no doubt teared up – he’d betrayed her by leaving – and of course Richard wouldn’t understand or agree with the decision. How could he? He couldn’t know the real reason.

  She continued to stare at him for an answer, this time stopping her horse. He looked into her eyes. They were beautiful but dangerous, frustrated and impatient, and refused to break contact with his. The two of them stood in the road in silence as William thought; he already knew the answer – that part was easy – but coming to terms with it troubled him. How had it been so easy? To leave his home in pursuit of answers, how could that drive him away from the wonders of home, the safety of family? His gaze dropped to the ground for only a moment until he resumed eye contact, his expression hardening to match hers.

  “No,” William firmly said to break the silence. He sharply inhaled and sat up straight on the horse. “I know why I’ve come, and I want to be here.” He paused. “I’m here by my own accord.”

  Her face softened.

  “But of course I miss home and the others,” William defended. “Of course that’s all I’m talking about right now. I’ve just left everything I know and hold dear.”

  She conceded a nod.

  “But in no way do I regret coming with you,” he asserted. “I’m just anxious to see more of the world than I know and even more anxious to discover my heritage.”

  “You’ll see much of the world on this trip,” she assured, trying to diffuse his frustration, “and I think you’ll be better for it.”

  “I’d hope so,” he said, motioning towards his horse. He took a deep breath. “I’m ready to continue to the next town.” He patted Windrunner’s sweaty neck. “I’m not sure if he is though.”

  She reached over and touched Windrunner’s neck, her eyes illuminating with their characteristically light green tint, as slivers of green light extended from Windrunner’s neck to her hand. After removing her hands, her shoulders slightly slouched and she breathed heavily. Windrunner tapped his hooves against the ground, standing up straight, and his breathing returned to normal, his eyes wide open and surveying the surroundings. But Elizabeth appeared tired, taking longer to resume her usual posture. William could hear her quiet, laboured breathing.

  “Are you alright?” he asked. “It seemed more difficult that time.”

  “It tires me,” she admitted, “especially when I must do it so frequently. I’ll need the rest just as much as the horses in the next town.”

  “So when you rejuvenate them,” he started, “how exactly does it work?”

  “I internalise their fatigue,” she said. “And then rejuvenate myself. I then augment them with endurance and strength.”

  “That’s how Richard’s horse carried four people,” William figured out.

  She nodded.

  “Makes sense,” he said. “It’s just like when you improved my abilities with the bow in the caverns.”

  “Yes. But I can augment only what already exists,” she added. “They are capable of running faster with greater endurance for now, but it is not permanent.”

  “So you can’t strengthen something if that strength isn’t already there?”

  She nodded. “If someone cannot swim, I cannot help them swim faster. Likewise, if someone cannot use a bow, I cannot improve their aim.”

  “But if they’re already very skilled, then you can make them better?”

  “Yes,” she said. “It’s why when I augmented you in the cavern, your arrow was able to pierce through the enemy’s thick wooden shield.”

  “I remember that feeling,” he said and shuddered. “It seemed my entire body erupted into energy and strength. It frightened me at first.”

  “That’s the first time I felt the energy within you when I touched your shoulder. I knew you were somehow different.”

  He nodded. “That feeling in the caverns was amazing,” he said with a grin. “I’d never felt so strong before.”

  “One can become addicted to the feeling,” she warned.

  “Can you do the same to yourself? Is that why you are so good at using both the bow and the sword?”

  “No,” she said and shrugged. “I can only augment others.”

  He nodded. “So you’re just very skilled with a bow and blade, then.”

  “Thank you,” she said but ignored the compliment, instead diverting the focus onto the weapons she uses. “My bowstring pulls farther back than others, which is also why I can release the enchanted arrows at a greater distance than the others.”

  William looked over his shoulder to the quiver of Arracian arrows behind him. “Will you enchant my arrows, then?” he asked. “If you are not too tired,” he added.

  “Yes.” They stopped their horses again, and she reached over to the arrows. After wrapping her hands around them, they turned a bleach white with white feathers, the Arracian orange fading from existence; she sat back. “It’s done.”

  He pulled out one of the arrows, looking at their new colour and identity. He readied one in his bow. “Well, I must try it, right?” After releasing, it whizzed through the air and embedded into a faraway tree. “That’s impressive,” he said with a nod. “I’ve never shot an arrow that far before.”

  “They’ll pierce deeper than before, too,” she said while leading them towards the tree he’d shot. After galloping over, she pointed to the arrow. “See, it pierces through the trunk of the tree with ease.”

  William struggled to remove it from the tree trunk, looking up slightly embarrassed. “That’s a useful added advantage, but I can’t remove it from the tree now.” Elizabeth touched his shoulder and he pulled it out of the tree. “Thanks.”

  She nodded with a shallow smile.

  He returned the white arrow to his quiver. “Why do the effects wear off for people and horses if these arrows won’t lose their enchantment?”

  “Enchanting differs from augmentation. Objects accept my magic indefinitely without limits. Living things, on the other hand, have their natural limits and so lose my augmentation over time. Someone cannot run forever, not even Windrunner. He’s a living horse and will naturally tire over time. I can teach you more about it later, if you like?”

  He smiled. “Yes, I’d like that.”

  She extended a hand while the two of them trotted beside each other on the road. “I can enchant your sword if you like?”

  “With what?”

  “Hand it to me,” she said without answering. As their horses slowed to a halt again, she waited for him to hand it to her and looked away. Her eyes glowed, as did the sword this time. “I’ll need your sheath, too,” and he handed that to her too. After enchanting both, she handed both of them back to him.

  “What did you do?” He inspected the surface of his blade, seeing the light green glow slowly fading from the surface. “It feels the same weight.”

  “I didn’t change the weight,” she said. “I simply sharpened it to be able to pierce through armour. Through anything, really,” she added. “That’s why I had to enchant your sheath, too, so it could hold your sword.”

  “Thank you,” he said while returning the sword to his side. “You possess strong abilities; I’m not used to seeing anything like them.”

  “They’re not as strong as my fathers were,” she said, “I can assure you of that. I still have much to learn.”

  “I’m sure the knowledge will come,” he said, “but in the meantime, I think Windrunner appreciates your ability to rejuvenate him.”

  She nodded as they started to trot once more. She looked to her horse, “her name is Stormcaller,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve told you her name before.”

  “When did you choose that name for her?”

&n
bsp; “I didn’t,” she said. “She chose it for herself.”

  “How?”

  “I am connected to her from augmentation,” Elizabeth said, “much like she’s connected to me now. I can feel her heart beating.”

  “Your abilities…connect you to her?”

  “Yes,” she said, pointing to Windrunner. “I can feel his heartbeat, too, and the energy in his strides.”

  William thought aloud. “You can feel their heartbeats?”

  “Yes. I feel everything, their fears, their desires, and their pain.”

  “So when you augment someone else, you connect with them?” He shifted uncomfortably in the saddle. “Can you hear my heartbeat and know what I think?”

  “No,” she assured and shook her head. “It’s different to connect with a person. With other animals it’s easy, but with people…it’s different. I choose not to do it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s too…personal,” she said. “I know what they know, feel what they feel.”

  “Have you done it before?”

  She shrugged. “I’ve only been connected with one person: my father. Before we went into the forest together, he wanted to be able to keep me safe and so taught me how to make the connection before we entered.”

  William fell silent.

  “That connection was lost the moment he died,” she said, her eyes wandering into the abyss in front of her with a cold stare. “I felt it all, the moment that arrow pierced his chest and the light left his eyes. I felt death.”

  He cringed.

  She shook her head. “After that initial experience, I choose to never connect with another person again,” she repeated. “It’s by choice.”

  William nodded. “I understand,” he said and went silent.

  She held onto the stone within the folds of her dress. “I do hope this trip provides answers,” she said, changing the subject.

  “As do I,” he muttered, unsure of what to say next.

  “You should check the map,” Elizabeth said in support, “to see how your family fares.”

  The two of them slowed to a walking pace. “It was clear the last time I checked,” he replied while carefully removing the hard cylinder from the side of his horse. “I’m sure nothing’s happened since.”