by Luca Rossi
The only sound heard on the ship was the lapping of the tide against the reef and the seagulls flying above, occasionally diving into the water in search of food.
The rowboats grew smaller as they moved further away. One mile, Aldin counted. Two miles! he counted later. An irrepressible wave of exultation chased away every dark doubt in his mind. The barrier's gone. I put an end to two thousand years of isolation. And soon, I'll be free! He wanted to jump gleefully and embrace the other sailors, who were still waiting, holding their breath.
When the rowboats were over three miles away from the ship, the captain gave a signal to the look-out, who blew his horn. The entire crew was swept away in an explosion of joy. For a few fleeting moments, the hierarchy was broken, rivalries disappeared, and divisions between men faded. Officers, sailors and soldiers hugged one another and celebrated as a single man, whooping and shouting into the sky. Even the cries of the birds flying above them seemed to be in the same spirit. Reckless in their revelry, three men fell overboard, soon helped back up by their mates. Even a timid choir sang the praises of King Beanor, whose people had now reconquered the freedom to plow through the seas.
Finally, the ranks were reformed and the captain gave the order to lift the sails. The ship seemed to fly across the waves. Three miles along, the men and rowboats sent as scouts were collected and the race with full sails resumed towards the South.
After a few hours of light-hearted navigation, the bowsprit, the wooden beam upon the prow, came crashing down. Then the figurehead was crushed by an invisible force.
The sound of the broken wood echoed in the hearts of the men. The prow started dissolving into smithereens. The ship, pushed along by the impetuous wind, smashed against the invisible barrier. Soldiers and sailors crowded the deck. Some jumped into the water. The back of the ship, still afloat, quickly started to sink, dragging down the men who held on tightly to the balustrade.
Aldin was in the water. He tried to cast spells that would keep him alive and give him warmth. But no words came out from his frozen lips. He grabbed on to a piece of wood. He looked around: the screams and pleas for help were no longer echoing out into the sky. The water was full of inanimate bobbing objects, which were human beings just moments earlier.
Did I fail? Is it my fault they're dead? he asked a few seconds before his own heart stopped beating.
9
King Beanor poured wine down the cleavage of the girl lying at his side in the gigantic bed. The liquid traveled towards her navel and Beanor leapt up to lick it. Soon wine will no longer be a luxury for just a select few. We'll grow vines in warmer lands. We'll fill swimming pools full of it.
His tongue traveled up to her breasts. He closed his lips on a nipple and savored its taste, as if it were the sweetest of fruit. The kind that barely grew on this cursed land. He pounced upon her lips and bit them until she struggled to free herself.
“Your Majesty!” the young woman protested.
“Did I hurt you? Little whore!” he insulted her in reply.
“No, not at all, your Majesty. Please, I beg you, continue,” the frightened girl pleaded, offering him her bloody lips.
Beanor hastened to suck up the drops of blood. He closed his eyes, inebriated with the flavor.
Someone knocked on the door.
“Who is it? Don't you know that I'm busy?” he yelled hoarsely.
“Your Majesty, I have an urgent message.”
None other than Tuirl, my incompetent advisor.
Beanor got out of bed and pulled on a pair of pants.
“Come in!”
The prostitute covered herself with a sheet and moved to slip away through a service door.
“Where do you think you're going? I haven't finished with you yet. Get under the covers and try to stay warm, you slut.”
She obeyed without uttering a word.
Tuirl looked down, visibly embarrassed.
“So? Speak! Or are you waiting for my cock to grow completely soft?”
“Your Majesty, a few pieces of the ship that set sail three days ago have washed up on shore,” Tuirl exhaled all at once.
Immediately livid, Beanor let out a disconcerting scream that shook the walls of the palace.
The eyes of Tuirl and the girl darted about, panicked. Beanor flung the candlesticks to the ground, then grabbed a sword and swung it at everything around him. Tapestries, curtains, furnishings, nothing escaped the wrath of his fury. He stopped for a second, exhausted.
With blood-shot eyes full of hatred, he stared at Tuirl. He took a step towards him as Tuirl retreated.
No, I need that imbecile.
He turned around and strode towards the bed. He lifted the sword over his head and slammed it down with all of his strength, cutting several inches into the wood underneath the mattress. A clean, precise slash. The girl's head rolled across the floor.
10
Beanor sat on his throne, nervously drumming his fingers against his arm.
Tuirl stood facing him. Old, almost bald save for a few short, white hairs, he was weathering yet another of the monarch's rages.
“So, advisor. Tell me again what you're insinuating – and this time be clear about it, unless you want me to throw you down into the castle dungeon.”
“Your Majesty, the court wizard, Aldin, has disappeared. The only possible reason we've found to explain his absence is that he decided to join the crew on the ship.”
“That bastard!” Beanor exploded, his face purple. “How dare he board that ship without my permission?”
“Your Majesty, if something did go wrong, what prospect awaited him here? He knew what would have happened. As he was reasonably sure of the efficacy of his magic powers, he probably thought the best choice was to leave.”
“That dog! What a useless piece of shit, a joke of a wizard! How could he even think to defy my will?”
Tuirl patiently waited for the king's fit of anger to blow over.
“Speak, by the gods above! Must we stay confined to these frozen lands for the rest of eternity?”
“Unfortunately, with the departure of Aldin, the only wizard left in our court is young Ilis, the apprentice, who hasn't had enough time to complete his training. But...” Tuirl paused for a moment, afraid what he was going to say would incite the rage of the monarch once again. “But, Ilis could mature under the guidance of the former court wizard.”
Beanor let out another roar. The veins on his neck seemed ready to pop: “Advisor! Have you lost your mind? I locked that man up twenty years ago after his failure cost me three good ships. The only reason I still keep him alive is so I can continue to torture him. What use could he possibly be to us?”
“Your Majesty, I'm afraid that it's him or nothing! He did indeed make an awful mistake, but he's the last chance we have!” Tuirl explained, the words coming out all in one breath.
Beanor leapt forward to attack the advisor, who stooped down, trying to shield himself from the king's hot-headed reactions. Rather than beat him, the king calmed down at the last minute and whispered in his ear: “The only reason I continue to spare you is the promise I made to my father. Go get that filthy piece of shit. But if your little idea doesn't work, not even father's spirit will be able to save your life.”
“As you wish, your Majesty,” Tuirl concluded, turning swiftly to leave the throne room.
11
As Tuirl entered the dark cell, his eyes failed to detect any trace of a human being inside of it. Overwhelmed by an unbearable stench, he couldn't help but take a few steps back. A moan from the corner caught his attention. “Obolil, is that you?” Tuirl asked.
Instead of a voice, a barely audible, broken whisper answered him, sounding as if it belonged to a spirit: “The d...door. Cl...close it. The...light...blinds...me.”
“Oh, sorry.”
Tuirl's eyes adjusted to the darkness. The floor was covered with excrement and moldy food. I can't stand it in here. He felt faint. Tuirl immediately turned around and left
. Once out of the cell, he ordered the guards to go and bring him the old wizard Obolil.
Supported by two soldiers, what appeared in the doorway was but the semblance of a man: all skin and bones, his mouth devoid of teeth, lips eaten away, filthy hair down to his knees, completely naked.
“You...you were my friend,” the wizard mumbled. “And you let them do...all this...to me...”
Back in his office, Tuirl sat facing Obolil. He had ordered them to cut his hair and beard, to wash him and give him a warm meal. But the man in front of him was still a far cry from the wizard the king had locked away twenty years ago. Obolil struggled to hold on to the right arm of the chair.
But it was the old wizard himself who broke the embarrassing silence: “I assume the latest expedition didn't go too well.”
“What do you know about that?” the advisor answered coldly.
“You don't need magic powers to listen. The guards are always chatting. And lately, that's all they've been talking about.” He grew quiet, then resumed speaking: “So what, did you think that incompetent Aldin would manage to do what I was unable to?” It seemed as if Obolil's face were trying to smile, but all he could manage was a grimace of pain, which sent chills down Tuirl's spine.
“Aldin was sure he had found the right spells to break the barrier. He convinced the king to invest an awful lot in the search for minerals that are nearly impossible to find in these lands. For years, men dug through the snow and the ice. Finally, when it was all ready, the rites were performed. And immediately afterwards, Aldin swore that he had incontestable proof that the barrier had been broken: that he had taken an astral voyage all the way down to the Southern lands. So the king sent out a reconnaissance ship.
“And then, my good advisor, all you got in return was a few sticks of wood floating in with the tide. That's what happened, right?”
Tuirl shivered, thinking of how the King had exploded when he had gone to tell him the bad news.
“The king loves to listen to those who tell him what he wants to hear,” the old wizard continued, staring at Tuirl. “So, advisor,” he continued, “what brought you to visit my cell, after twenty long years of silence?”
He'll never go for it, Tuirl doubted. But he's the last card we have to play.
“The king orders you to resume your duties at court.”
Obolil's reply was a series of convulsive tremors. The advisor couldn't tell if this was a physical problem or if Obolil was trying somehow to laugh.
“Me, at court, taking orders from that creature? Tuirl, I think these past few decades have made you more demented than I.”
“Obolil, I think it's in your best interest to accept. It's an order, after all. And if you don't agree, the king will order that the torture you were first subjected to be resumed yet again.”
More tremors and starts. “Do you think that sort of thing was ever stopped?”
He has nothing left to lose and doesn't want to live anymore. I'm not going to get anything out of him.
“You'll get your laboratory back. Your library. Every object, magical or not, that was taken away from you.”
For the first time, Obolil lifted his head, opened his eyelids and stared at Tuirl's face with both eyes.
“Everything?” he asked.
“Every single thing.”
“And in return?”
“You'll have to teach the apprentice, Ilis, and make sure that the magical wisdom of our people is not lost. You need to help him gain the powers needed to try, in his turn, to open the barrier. He needs to succeed where you failed.”
Obolil's head dangled from his neck as he shook it slightly, a stream of drool trailing down towards the floor. Grinning, he announced: “I accept!”
12
“That's not fair!” Ili protests, clenching his fists, his face red. He storms away, barefoot, across the manicured lawn.
Nal's smiling face suddenly transforms into a worried expression.
“Come on, Ili, don't quit. It's not unfair, it was just a good move!”
Ili turns around; his blond curls shade his face. “No! You said you wouldn't do that! Now I'm going to tell father.”
Nal rises to her feet. The universal window the two children had been playing with, just a few feet high, now gracefully rolls up by itself and returns to the girl's ring as she catches up with her brother. He looks at her, sullen.
“Ili, you're distracted. You were caught up in their feelings and you lost track of the protections. But it's not over.”
“You know how much I cared about that marriage!” Ili exclaims. A tear streams down his face.
“I know, but you need to learn that, even when we're excited, we can't lose track of everything else.” The girl holds her hand out to her little brother.
“Sometimes I'd like to give them a world like this one: beautiful land, trees, birds that sing,” he says, looking around him.
“Me too, you know. But the game has its rules. Want to play some more?”
“Okay,” the boy responds, sitting down with his legs crossed on the grass.
His sister imitates him.
The universal window unrolls between them. In the center, the light reflected by an azure planet shines stronger than all of the other stars. Nal touches it gently with her thoughts.
13
The fire had gone out. A thin trickle of smoke rose from the embers. The room was flooded with light. Lil opened her eyes and realized that the priestess' arm was resting on her chest. Miril was still deep asleep. Lil had to go to the bathroom, so she tried to gently move Miril's arm. The priestess snorted and opened her eyes. Suddenly a giant smile spread across her face.
Why is she so happy? Lil wondered, perplexed.
“Good morning, Lil,” she began, without lifting her arm.
“Good morning, Miril.” That excessive closeness made Lil slightly anxious. Where was she last night? Lil had woken up several times during the night and hadn't seen the priestess. “I thought you had gone to sleep in your quarters last night,” she commented, immediately regretting her insolence. She still felt rather uncomfortable talking to the priestess.
“No. I was just up late, working on a few things,” Miril explained in a serious tone of voice, seemingly distracted. She suddenly seemed to be lost deep in her thoughts.
Miril must have slept only a few hours, but she didn't seem at all tired. Even her hair was neatly done. She was as beautiful as ever, with the intense gaze of her green eyes and the long, light chestnut mane that unfurled down her back.
Life had always been hard for everyone on that island. Lil wondered what it must be like for a woman who had never experienced the intimate companionship of a man.
A moan from Bashinoir distracted her from her own musings.
“Let's go see how he is,” Miril gently urged.
He was still sleeping, apparently peacefully.
The two women checked his calf. Lil could barely believe her eyes: the wound, although very deep, looked much better.
Miril smiled: “Just a question of using the right ointments.”
Lil anxiously waited for her husband to wake up. She wanted to embrace him, for him to take her in his arms, to sleep with him. Thinking about how, even so recently, she used to enjoy teasing him and making him jealous now made her feel terribly guilty. But now I'm all his and only his, body and soul, she thought bitterly.
“I think Bashinoir should wake up sometime very soon,” Miril announced.
“Miril, did you find anything out, while you were working last night?” Lil asked, astonished by her own boldness.
The priestess shook her head. “I'm sorry, Lil.” She didn't think the girl would understand what an astral voyage was, but she still tried to explain it: “I went through the astral planes of the entire island looking for the bodies and their souls, but I didn't find a single trace. I even searched the bottom of the ocean, and even there, no luck.”
Planes of the entire island? At the bottom of the ocean? W
hat is she talking about?
The young woman wanted to know more, but she found it incredibly difficult to ask Miril more questions.
Luckily Miril met her halfway: “Don't worry if you don't fully understand what my words mean. I'll help you as much as I can. There are many things you'll be able to learn. Now come with me, let's go make breakfast. There's something very important I need to talk to you about and it's better that we don't waste any time.”
And most importantly, Miril thought, with Bashinoir asleep, Lil can make her choices more freely.
Miril and Lil sat at the table in the dining hall of the Temple. For the first time, after the tragic events of the last two days, they had finally prepared a real breakfast with the best of what the island had to offer. However, they ate as little as possible: who knew when Bashinoir would be awake and able to hunt. Over the next few days, they were bound to see their food supplies dwindle.
As she ate, Lil's cheeks finally began to regain their color. Her black eyes moved from one dish to the next: she had never sat at a table laden with so many wonderful things to eat. The culinary customs of the people of the island were not even remotely similar to those of the priest class, which received the best of every kind of food, in quantities much larger than necessary for their needs.
Miril let Lil eat peacefully, without disturbing her. When it seemed like she was full, she decided to bring up the subject that was weighing upon her: “Lil, my dear. There are just three of us left on this island. We have no idea what set off the inauspicious events of the day before yesterday, but we are alive and we have to make sure we do all we can to continue this existence in the best way possible.”
Lil was surprised by how serious the priestess sounded, and she listened carefully to every word. The priestess' expression still seemed gentle. She felt like the priestess was finally going to disclose something important.
