The Warrior of Elamor (Saga of Zel-Elcon Book 1)

by Richard Wood

  Jesse points up to Ra’ah and says firmly, “You may never see the Guardians, but they will always be with you. Master Ra’ah, these are my friends so do not use their protection for your gain”. Ra’ah always his hand in promises, “No Master Jesse that will never happen. I will never again lose the restful heart and I will visit my people in the mountains to reunite with my son”. “Ok”, Jesse replies with a smile. “I want to get back to my own home and introduce them to Pala”. Ra’ah looks down to Jesse, his eagle eyes full of tears and thankfully replies, “Master Jesse, thank you for helping me get back the treasure of my people. And I’m so sorry that I threatened to kill you”. Jesse looks up to him and says kindly, “Come see my father soon, he would love that”.

  CHAPTER 5

  The Breathless Despair

  It took four long months of rest and care for Pala’s body to recover from a life of hunger in sickness but it would take several years to recover from the ravages of rejection and abuse. Jesse would explain, “My parents were the greatest boost to his spirit. My mother always went through our home and shop singing and humming and the aroma of sweet lavender followed her wherever she went which kept him smiling. Whenever my mother spoke to Pala she would always use a nurturing soul and kind attitude, which in itself was enough to rescue Pala. Soon my mother became his mother too. He spent so much time with my father that he began to take on his mannerisms. It always made me laugh when he would walk around the shop moving like my father and saying for me to stoke the fire and asking me where his hammer was. It all made me except him even faster. He slid right into place and became my brother. Watching it all taught me the power of a soft hand and a patient heart”.

  “I can’t speak for all of Scarland but for the people of Paradore life has become a never ending battle against the threat of famine, slowly pushing our village into a life of poverty. Robbery on the roads through the dry lands made it unsafe to travel alone and rumors of thieving mobs were everywhere”.

  “One morning about three moons after my twentieth year, my mother and I went down to our blacksmith shop to help my father. He had gone earlier to meet with a person from a nearby village who had come with an order of supplies for us to fill for their village. What none of us knew was that the man with my father was a thief and murderer. A mistake I would die to undo. As we got to the shop the door swung open. Standing just outside of the shadows stood my father, pale faced with a look of fearful confusion he stared into our faces. Directly behind my father stood the man we thought was from a local village. I should’ve known that something was wrong but who would hurt my father, he was the best man in Paradore. My mother and I smiled when we saw him. Then with an angry voice the man shouted that he wanted all the coins. What this man didn’t know was the generous nature of my family. Because our village has been going through lean times my family gave all we had to help support the people of our village. All we had at the time was ourselves and the knowledge that we stand for good of our people. We gave to them and when they had they gave to us”.

  “The man behind my father became angrier and more violent and with clenched teeth he shouted again about the coins. I started to move toward the man but my father looked at me and shook his head no. I stepped away from my mother so if I needed to lunge forward to help my father I didn’t want to take the chance of hurting her in the process. I saw the man’s right hand jerk forward. I didn’t know it then but he just plunged a knife into my father’s back. My father’s face went blank and he fell to his knees. The man then raised his bloody knife above my father. When I saw it, it felt like my heart stopped beating. Strength poured out of me and the next second I found myself face down on the ground. I looked up and found my father’s headless body lying on the ground a few feet from me. I jumped to my feet and ran to his body, standing there I was speechless. Then I remembered my mother. I looked over to where we were standing and there she was, standing still, almost lifeless as I was covered from head to toe in my father’s blood”.

  “There is no way for me to explain the depth of shame I felt at that moment. My parents have showered me with love and affection my whole life and the moment when they needed me most in theirs, I was blacked out looking over my father. Seeing my wonderful mother covered in my father’s blood I didn’t remember how I got to her but there I was, my arms wrapped around her screaming for help. Pala heard me all the way to our home and came running. When he got to us he fell to his knees at our father’s body and screamed out in agony. He worshiped our parents. For a second, I thought I might lose him as I had never seen him so grief stricken”.

  “My mother has never been the same. My father’s murder took something precious from her. She reminded me of a lost lamb looking for its mother. My mother was never able to do the things she used to do to impress my father ever again. There was no baking of bread because my father love the smell of it filling the air. She put a blanket over my father’s chair, not because he sat there but because it was filled with my father smell. My wonderful mother would always try to smile but even years later, her eyes would always speak the truth about the pain in her heart”.

  “After we buried my father, I knew I had to go back to his home village. His family there also needed to know that he was gone so seven days later I packed some food, took my father staff to help me through the dry lands and northern mountains. I asked Pala to watch over our mother and the shop. I kissed my mother, who was still speechless, and started my journey to my father’s family’s village of Genisville”.

  “It was a month before summer but it was already becoming hot. The dry lands will be dry but the pools of hope are always full. I will travel as safely as possible and will not stop to enjoy the beauty of the dry lands. The suffering of my family will keep me from seeing all its wonders anyway. All I want to do is report my father’s death and get back to my mother and brother”.

  As Jesse passed the red bloom of the dry land rose a flash of his mother covered with his father’s dripping blood fills his already fuzzy mind. Shame filled his heart as he began asking himself over and over again, “Why did I end up laying on the ground? What kind of son betrays his parents like that? How am I ever going to be able to live my whole life with a failure like that following me wherever I go? And what happened to the killer? Where did he go? Someone had to see him leaving our village but no one stopped him and no one came forward to tell us where he went. My father did everything he could for the people of our village but none of them were there when he needed help. And where is the King of Elamor or the Secret Guardians? Since my father’s death no one has been with me. No Lights or Sounds of Elamor. They all blame me I know they do. I’ve lost them and I don’t know if I will ever get them back. I’m alone and no one cares. What if I made them all up? What if they’re just imaginary friends that only I saw or heard? And my father’s death was their ride out. But standing there next to the King of Elamor was more than real. I could hear the sound of his love moving through the air. No one makes that kind of thing up. I couldn’t have imagined that. What I felt was impossible to make up. No Terra-Covian could have imagined the colors I saw there, no one could make up the sounds I heard. No one could explain the sound of his power”.

  As Jesse walks through the dry lands, a loneliness falls on him that seems to add weight to his steps. He stops for a moment resting his face against his father staff. Jesse places his nose against the staff breeding and deeply hoping to get just a whiff of his father’s aroma on it but there is none. He searches the dry lands looking for anything that shows beauty; a flower, a baby animal, even a colorful insect but there is nothing. Only a dry, dusty shrub filled never ending emptiness. The world that brought him so much joy as a child, now only reminds him of how empty he feels. As Jesse leans there on his father staff he is crushed by the weight of his losses. His father’s brutal death, his mother’s empty soul, his shame and guilt, and now the loss of his love for the dry lands. As night falls, Jesse gathers dead shrub, dry grass, and crumbling
moss to build a fire. He strikes flint stones together just as his father taught him to. A spark hits the moss and a smolder appears, then a flame. Soon Jesse is warming himself by his fire. As he sits there with his palms toward the flames, he wonders how Pala and his mother are doing right now. Slowly and softly he falls off to sleep, warmed by the fire his father taught him to build.

  The next morning Jesse woke up rubbing his eyes and yawning deeply. In the pit are smoldering embers but Jesse has no desire to rebuild the fire. He sat there quietly, legs crossed watching the final embers flicker and the last bit of smoke rises. His mind goes back to the entrance to the blacksmith shop. The last thing he saw in his father’s eyes was desperation, a look he never saw in his father before. That murderer stole more than his father’s life and his mother’s emotional strength. He stole his father’s last hope to protect his family. As Jesse looks into the gray ashes, he feels swallowed up by a shame. “What must his mother have seen that left her so empty? Why would the King of Elamor watch as this murderer who killed his father and emptied his mother just get away? And where were the Guardians? They could’ve stopped everything! They have always been there to protect my family. And where were the Lights of Elamor with their speechless volumes of high wisdom.”

  Jesse tries to think clearly but doubt and shame cloud his mind with bitter despair. He feels himself drifting into a world where death is a personal victory. Jesse pulls himself into a fetal position, lying there at the cold fire pit filled with desperation as he is reduced to a victim. Slowly he falls back into a deep sleep as the day moves on. As dawn starts to approach, a cold dew fills the air and Jesse wakes shivering. His hands are clenched so tightly that his fingers are white and bloodless. Prying open his fingers he shakes his hands briskly and a growl begins in his stomach. Reaching into his pack he feels a slight tingle on his hand and then suddenly pulls his hand back and sees it is covered with insects. Looking down into the pack he sees thousands of tiny ants. Turning his pack upside down, Jesse shakes the contents out onto a large flat rock. Falling out of the pack is cheese, bread, and boiled meat all covered with ants. He stands and walks to some nearby shrubs and beats the pack against the plants to get all of the insects out. He returns back to the flat rock and picks up the pieces of food, blowing off the last bit of ants and slowly repacks them in. Realizing that night time is approaching, Jesse gathers together more dry shrub and returns to the fire pit. As soon as the fire is built, he will be free from the insects and protected from predators as well as having the comfort of a warm fire. As Jesse watches the flickering flames, he reaches into his pack and begins to pull out food to eat. As he sits there next to the fire his heart is still heavy with depression, his breathing is labored, and he’s covered in shame. The only thing that keeps him going is his commitment to report his father’s death and return home to his mother. As he stretches out before the fire he realizes he doesn’t have the beautiful Lights of Elamor and he doesn’t have the never ending flow of the Sounds of Elamor. But he still has all they taught him lodged in his heart and for this moment in time that is going to be enough. As Jesse drifts off to sleep, he sees himself tomorrow picking up his pack, his father staff, and continuing his journey.

  As the sun rises, its warmth breaks through the chill of dawn. It’s a new day but yesterday’s depression is still standing a death watch over his heart. Once again Jesse trains his eyes on the responsibility of reporting his father’s death, totally disregarding his personal pain. He checks the pit, and sees no flame. “Good”, Jesse whispers, then reaches for his pack and staff and sets his face toward the north. The next village is Dreadston. If he keeps his course he can be there by tomorrow afternoon.

  As Jesse walks the dry lands, his mind drifts to his wonderful father, Eli of Payne. No son ever had a better father and no woman has ever had a better husband. Jesse remembers lying in bed in the morning listening to his father moving through their home. Somehow the sound of his father walking through the house gave him a feeling of comfort and protection. There’s something wonderful about being watched over by your father, it gives you security. Jesse whispers to himself, “My father was the greatest Elder, the strongest man, the wisest councilor, and the best blacksmith our village will ever have and when I get back home I’m going to live to honor him”.

  As noon approaches, the heaviness of the past few days slowly begins to lift and once again Jesse is able to enjoy the beauties of the dry lands. He sees tracks in the sand as the lands tiny animals scurry away. Flying insects hover around flowering plants and song birds’ chirp away and the shrubs. It all reminds him of the joys of his childhood and the amazement he felt about all things that roam free.

  As the sun begins to set, Jesse once again gathers dry shrubs and grass for a fire. As he forms a pit, he feels a set of eyes gazing down at him from behind. He turns to look but sees nothing. Focusing his ears in the direction, he listens intently but hears nothing that gives him a caution or concern. He thinks to himself, “If only the Sounds of Elamor were here”. They would alert him to any danger but the Sounds are silent. Jesse returns to building his fire and soon the orange flicker of flames are keeping him safe. Jesse eats the last of his food and soon falls asleep, leaning against an exposed rock.

  The next morning Jesse wakes up with a smile. The heaviness has lifted and once again he is strong, determined, and full of anticipation. This afternoon he will reach the village of Dreadston. His father is well known there so you won’t have any problem getting supplies for continuing his journey. They might even give him a few hot meals before leaving their village tomorrow morning. Grabbing his pack and staff, he heads northeast to the village of Dreadston and is thrilled for a night of relaxed sleep.

  As Jesse walks, a slight breeze blows on his skin. The day is clear. It was warm but not hot and the breeze made him feel very comfortable. It was days like this that his mother used to pack a picnic and they would all go out into a field, spread a quilt and eat. Those were good times. Remembering back, Jesse recalls some of the things his father told him about Dreadston. The people there were a good lot, but of trouble came into the village they would unite with an almost pack of wolves rage and end the problem. His father had seen it a few times while he was there on business. Eli had told him a story about how a band of thieves had invaded the village. They pushed the villagers into the village square and went through all the huts. The thieves decided then to search all the villagers. As the thieves approached them one of the Elders shouted “Attack!” His father said, “Those thieves never entered that village again”. This village knew how to stick together for the good of all.

  As the sun reached noon, Jesse topped a hill. Looking down into the valley in a distance is the village of Dreadston. Even though he had never been there, he felt an instant kinship with the people. His father spoke so endearing about them. As soon as they knew he was Eli’s son they would accept him, there is no doubt about that. Jesse smiles, breathes in deeply, and begins his walk down the hill and into Dreadston. This is going to be his first experience of explaining his father’s death. As he walks, he practices in his mind how he is going to explain the murder of his father without becoming so emotional that he breaks down and cries. He does well explaining the event until he gets to the point where he blacks out. It’s at that point that Jesse becomes flooded with shame and too emotional. He stops and looks to the ground, whispering to himself he says, “How am I going to explain that I failed my father to his death?” Leaning against his father staff he’s heavy with guilt as he remembers the site of his father’s headless body and his mother’s loss of reality. Nothing prepares a son for something like that. Closing his eyes he becomes lightheaded and feels a tingle starting with his face, working its way down his back. He shakes his head and breathes in deeply. His head clears and his nerves calm. Focusing his eyes on Dreadston, Jesse determines in his heart that whatever it takes, he’s going to tell these people the painful truth.

  As Jesse is in sight of the vill
age border, he meets a villager walking in the opposite direction. Jesse raises his hand to waive and says, “Hi there”. The villager looks up and smiles back at Jesse but then focuses in on his face. Suddenly the man’s smile disappears. As Jesse passes him, a sense of foreboding covers him. He doesn’t understand what just happened but it doesn’t feel anything like what he expected. Jesse turns to see the man as he passes. The man walks on for a few steps then turns to look at Jesse and continues on. Leaning on his staff, Jesse thinks to himself, “I’m starting to imagine things, I can’t wait to just sit and relax”. As he walks onward, Jesse sees a post with what looks like a message on it. He glances at it and stops in his tracks. The boldfaced writing on the message said, “The man who killed Eli of Payne”. Jesse’s heart skips a beat. Somehow this village has already been told about the death of his father. Suddenly his pleasant stay at Dreadston feels like it is about to take a sinister turn. Then Jesse realizes, “These wonderful people of Dreadston have already began a search for my father’s killer. These really are the good people my father spoke so calmly about”. Jesse’s thankful that he’s not going to have to explain those ugly events after all. Comforted, he avoids the small print and walks on into the village of Dreadston.