“Where are we?” she asks, seeing Drotonic kneeling beside her. He helps her stand.
“I have an idea, but let’s go check it out.” He leads the way to the opening where the many footsteps and mixtures of chatter from multiple conversations jumble incomprehensibly. Drotonic looks out and smiles, taking in a breath of the ocean air. Then as Erryn is about to look at what’s bedazzling him. Sharp images of pain surge through her mind, causing her to stop and cradle her head.
“Erryn? What’s wrong?” Drotonic turns to her side as she bends to the ground, fighting the pain. After blankly staring, her eyes glow purple. However, although she was looking straight across, it wasn’t the other building in her sights but rather her sister Jet. Tears fall down her spaced face as Drotonic shakes her out of it.
“Erryn…run. He’s coming… for you,” Jet whispers in Erryn’s mind.
The image of Jet fighting a losing battle against exhaustion as she’s sitting on the pyramid back of an iron horse being whipped sears into Erryn’s mind, but she has hope as a faint white aura encompasses Jet. Then the aura shoots at Erryn as it then zooms her out, revealing a volcano.
Erryn is thrusted backward against the building, and a white mist disperses around her and disappears. She scrambles to her feet, stumbling on unsteady legs. “Jet!” she cries out, but then sees Drotonic’s panicked face.
“It was horrible. Jet… she was being tortured. There was nothing I could do.” Tears leak out of Erryn’s eyes. “She warned me that Vladimir was coming for me. Then I saw a volcano.”
“What was that?” he asks.
“I’m not sure,” Erryn says, for she has never remembered anything like that from their past. Is that what’s happening to her now? How would that even be possible if that’s the case? she wonders.
“Let’s get you something to eat. You probably haven’t even had any breakfast yet, have you?” Drotonic offers. She could see his worry in his shaken eyes. Erryn nods, but before Drotonic could help her up, shadows rush her. They drag her into the darkness into a black void.
Erryn stands and her body aches, “Hello? Is someone there?”
“You could say that,” says a mysterious man’s voice as a large skull materialized out of the void. Vibrant green flames burned in its eyes, surrounding it completely in an eerie burning aura. It floats up to her, as five more appear one after another. One hovers closer and makes a sniffing sound.
“Did you just sniff me?” She tries tapping the skull.
“Hm, I know I felt it, but your energy smells off,” he says.
“Excuse me? At least I’m not a floating head,” Erryn says as she swats one away.
“But your power is so great. You must take me from these depths. I will not be dismissed,” he says, and the skulls’ flames enrage.
“No, I don’t, and I won’t. I’m leaving, somehow,” Erryn looks around, walking away from the skulls.
“No!” he demands as the skulls zoom over to her, spinning fast around her. From below her, skeletons grab her feet. Other bones pile up onto her making her immobile. The skulls are spinning fast, creating a green flaming barrier around her as a black shadow mist billows out from the skull’s mouths.
The blackness like shadows fills the column as Erryn begins to feel a familiar surging pain affecting her nervous system, traveling from her head down along her spine. She falls to her knees as the skeletons now move from her ankles and grab her legs. More bones pile up to the middle of her stomach as she looks up to see a glint and reaches her arm up.
“Drotonic. Somebody. Anybody help me?” Erryn begs.
“No, she’s mine. Go find your own,” the man shouts as the area becomes cool. A frost enters the column, causing the flames and the shadow mist to die down and disperse.
“She’s not for you,” a gentle woman’s voice says as all the bones turn into ice. The cold touches her hand, and the pain is put to rest. Erryn becomes covered in a light layer of a snowy frost, and a light surrounds her. Then she’s lying back on the ground of the alley.
Erryn surfaces through the shadows as the ground around her becomes ice.
“Erryn, are you alright?” Drotonic kneels, brushing off the cold white fluff.
She sits up and shakes her arms as all the coldness begins melting around her.
“I think I’d like to get out of this alley now,” Erryn says.
Drotonic takes her hand. Without hesitation, he and Erryn leave the alley. Stepping into the main street, they discover an inn and the gate entrance being close behind them.
“This is the harbor town, Pinya,” Drotonic says.
Erryn grips his hand, stepping slightly behind his arm as the crowded streets cause butterflies and goosebumps within her.
“Why’re there so many people?” Erryn asks.
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“Wouldn’t they rather hide inside, so none of these guards makes them their plaything? Aren’t they afraid of getting in their way and getting punished?” she asks.
“This isn’t Dragonar, and this place isn’t run by him either,” Drotonic says.
Erryn’s tension eases a bit as she sees a familiar gray stoned structured building in the distance.
“Is that the temple? It’s huge.” Erryn is in awe.
“Yep, and that’s where we’re going,” he smiles, and they walk on.
Erryn looks around. A wagon with one horse is loaded at the front of the big pier which connects to multiple docks. On each dock, a seat pivoting with an elongated hook on thick metal cords is stationed to transport heavy cargo off ships.
“What’re those things” Erryn asks, pointing to the docks.
Drotonic looks at where she was pointing and questioning. “Those? They’re cranes. They can lift heavy loads far easier and faster than workers can. Have you never seen one before?”
Erryn shakes her head. “No, I never got a chance to ever see his private harbor, except for when I first came there. He forced people to handle whatever work he required of them, even if it was too heavy or dangerous.”
Drotonic’s forehead wrinkles from his raised brows as his eyes reflect a saddening compassion. “Those weren’t workers; they were slaves. There is a difference, and it’s one more reason why that tyrant must be stopped.” While continuing their walk throughout the town, Erryn observes the maintained two- and three-story buildings with shops on the ground floor. Other shops are separated, like the weaponsmith’s shop just after the inn.
“It’s amazing how pretty such a place can be. I mean, look at their elegant, clean clothes and beautiful homes. You would never see this in Dragonar,” Erryn says as she maneuvers by people avoiding contact, while she still holds onto Drotonic’s arm. After passing by some people, freezing wintery gusts flow by one of the alleys. Although the sun is shining brightly, it still brings warmth on a spring day.
“This is what happens when you don’t have a monster running things,” Drotonic whispers, regaining her attention as he smiles. They walk up the stairs to the temple doors as temple guards stand on the steps, creeping her out.
“I feel like I’m going to get pounced on at any moment,” Erryn whispers to him, keeping an eye on the guards. A man exits the temple, dressed in similar fashions as to the bishop from Nija.
“Ah, Divine Sage. How are you? I received word you would be coming but didn’t expect your arrival so soon. Please, come on in,” The priest invites them in as two of the guards hold the double doors for their entry.
“Yes, thank you, sir,” Drotonic bows his head, following him inside. Erryn steps in, assuming to see a temple with a similar design to Nija’s. But to her amazement, its layout within is quite different. After the doors shut behind them, she looks around, noticing the massiveness could easily house the entire temple in Nija.
Straight ahead are two sets of metallic double doors leading into the prayer room. A grand hall to the left, takes you deeper into the temple. However, the similarities end there. The priest approaches a
small desk placed between the right side of the double prayer doors and a set of ascending stairs. Behind the desk is a scrawny guy with messy short black hair and a small pointy nose whose attention is divided between the books on the desk and a contraption on the wall behind him.
The priest knocks on the desk as the small-framed man hits his head underneath, “Oh, bishop. How are things?”
“Good, good. How are we doing today?” the bishop asks as the guy rubs his head.
“Well, thank god most of the ships made it in. We have been getting low on inventory for downstairs. But no instances, thus far,” he says.
There’s a downstairs? she wonders, looking around as she spots a set of stairs in the shadows of the lobby next to the ascending stairs.
“What do you think is down there?” she whispers.
“You’ll see. However, this place has gotten a lot bigger than the last time I was here,” Drotonic smiles.
“Indeed, it has,” The bishop turns to them. “Time keeps advancing, just as we have. Please. You must be hungry making it all this way; follow me.”
As he leads them down the stairs, Drotonic follows as Erryn hesitates, “I don’t have to worry about being snatched within the shadows going down there, do I?”
“Down here? No, you’re perfectly safe, I assure you,” the bishop answers, looking at her as she looks to Drotonic. The bishop nods his head, and Erryn relaxes. She follows close to Drotonic as they descend.
“Bishop,” shouts a bulky man behind the bar.
“Kulman, two plates please,” He waves to him and pointing to a booth. Erryn couldn’t believe it. It was a full-blown tavern underneath the temple with lots of people. A lot of them didn’t have the fancy clothes she had seen entering Pinya.
As they walk through, there were a couple of tables on which guys hit some palm-sized balls into different side pockets with long sticks. There are other small round tables with money and cards on them as crowds surround them watching.
Walking around the thickening crowd, Erryn’s eye catches the sight of one of the men. “Drotonic, it’s him. He’s here.”
“Who’s here?” he asks as they approach their table.
“The guy who helped us,” she whispers, pointing behind them as Drotonic shrugs. The bishop gestures as they sit across from him. Cups of water are brought by a waitress. Erryn reaches for one to quench her parched throat.
“So, I’m interested to know; how do you like Pinya?” the bishop asks.
“It’s really pretty. I’ve never seen a place like this before,” Erryn slurps the last drops from within her cup as Drotonic sips.
“It really is something, isn’t it?” the bishop smiles.
“The harbor has gotten quite large as well,” Drotonic mentions.
“Well, we had to modify things, what with the increasing demand and we became the heart of trade,” bishop says.
“Really?” Erryn asks as the waitress returns, refilling her glass.
“But what’s even more amazing than that is your existence, Lady Summoner,” the bishop smiles.
“As amazing as it is, you were almost without one after being teleported here and being attacked by the shadows,” Erryn says.
“Excuse me?” The bishop’s eyebrows rise.
“It’s true, sir. In an alley where we appeared with no one around. Darkness nabbed her, pulling her into shadows through the ground without disrupting the pavement on which we stood. I only saw her when she rose back from wherever she’d been. She was covered in a frost and the surrounding grounds turned to ice,” Drotonic says.
“At least you didn’t see floating green flamed skulls,” Erryn adds.
“Hm, this is disheartening. I apologize for your initial experience of Pinya. To be confronted by both gods in such a way,” the bishop sighs.
“I’m sorry. Did you just say ‘both’ as in two gods? I thought there’s only one god in one region.” Erryn furrows her brow.
“Yes, unfortunately. The darkness is harnessed and controlled by the death god, Abyss. Clearly, his attachments to both Pinya’s and Arthro’s pasts keep his afflictions of ruin and pillage alive.” The bishop frowns.
“Good thing the ice goddess was there to save you,” Drotonic says.
Then the waitress walks over, placing two plates of food in front of Erryn and Drotonic.
“Wow, this looks delicious.” Erryn says.
“Dig in; enjoy. I, on the other hand, still have things to look into before my night is out.” The bishop smiles.
“Sir, are you sure?” Drotonic asks.
Erryn inhales the fragrance of the roast chicken, as its golden-brown skin crackles under her knife. She places a morsel on her tongue, and the succulent juices trickle down her throat.
“Absolutely. When you’re done for the night, just ask the bookkeep behind the desk. He’ll have rooms prepared for you. You can rest easy. You’re safe now.” The bishop excuses himself from the table.
The last time someone assured my safety, homes got burned. Jet, where am I supposed to run to if they come here? Erryn wonders, thinking of her surreal mind flashes.
Pinya : Drotonic
16
After the bishop leaves, Drotonic decides to move to the other side of the table and sits across from Erryn. He slides his plate over, eager to begin eating. As he scoops his fourth bite, he notices Erryn spacing out and assumes she is with deep thought.
“Something the matter?” he asks.
“Hm, it’s nothing really.” Her sigh hints at a heaviness weighing on her.
Drotonic places his silverware down and looks at her. “Nothing? Are you sure? It doesn’t seem so with that sad look.” He sits there patiently as she searches for words.
“Do you remember before the shadows attacked, how I thrusted into the building in a sort of a daze?” Erryn asks.
His brow lifts, remembering the changing of her eyes and the white mist that dispersed around her. “I suspected something about that still weighed on you.”
She bites her bottom lip and says, “When I saw my sister, it was nothing I witnessed before in our past. It wasn’t a memory.”
“What do you mean? What did you see that made you cry?” Drotonic asks.
“Somehow, our minds connected. I can’t explain it. I think she meant to mentally warn me of some danger. What I saw of her…,” she gulps as she continues, her eyes swelling with tears. “She was being tortured within the depths of a volcano. It kills me to know she’s hurting elsewhere as I’m here safe.” Tears stream down her cheeks. Drotonic couldn’t believe his ears and places his hand over hers, holding it firm.
“Erryn, I promise you; we’ll help your sister in our travels. I can’t even fathom your feelings from witnessing or even knowing something like that,” he says. She looks up as a tear falls upon her cheek, and a smile arises from his promise.
“Thank you,” She takes her hand back and wipes her tears. After drying her face, she slides further into the booth as the tavern becomes more crowded due to the late hour. They finish their plates, and Erryn gets another refill to her glass.
“Are you going to be okay if I go head to the bar to check up with an old friend?” Drotonic asks.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she smiles.
“Hey, we’ll help her, but it doesn’t help to beat yourself up about it. There’s not much we can do about it till we work our way over there,” Drotonic says and she nods. Then heading over to the bar, he sees his friend working on the opposite end of the bar.
“Hey, Chef,” Drotonic yells down.
“Who the hell thinks they have the right to yell that?” The chef excuses himself from his customers and walks down to the only waving hand he sees.
“Oh, no way, Drotonic. Hey man; long time no see. It’s been mad years since I saw you when you were just a little thing,” The chef shakes his hand.
“I know. You think you could get me a drink?” Drotonic asks.
The chef reaches for a bottle and uncaps it. �
��So, what brings you here, by yourself?” he asks, handing him the bottle.
“I became the divine sage recently. I’m escorting a little miss on her journey,” Drotonic says.
“Wow. Congrats, kid. Divine sage. That’s got to be a big step up for you, eh? But does that mean the little miss is a—,” the chef says as Drotonic interrupts him, shushing his last words. He nods and a waitress walks up next to him as a crowd starts gathering and becoming rowdy.
“Excuse me, sweetie. Kulman, I’m told to give you this in case of damages and to tell you to put his drinks on Mr. Brightbane’s tab,” the waitress says.
“That little shit is here? The bishop isn’t going to be happy about this. You can’t just buy off your recklessness, you know,” Kulman shouts over the crowd. Who’s he yelling at? Drotonic wonders.
Pinya : Valedent
17
After leaving the alley to the sage waiting on the girl to arrive, Valedent flips up his collar among the busy crowd, hoping to be unnoticed by anyone. Ships are unloading merchandise varying from food to furniture and cattle to clothing. All are to be distributed to the shops and markets throughout the town. He walks by multiple merchant’s stands, grabbing a new hat to hide his face from familiar eyes and a weathered jacket to cover his own.
“You there. I need things delivered to the captain of the guard’s residence,” shouts a man as Valedent freezes and turns to him.
“I’m sorry. Are you talking to me?” Valedent assesses the muscular man shouting to him.
“Yes, you. Now get over here. He’s been waiting on this Lordin shipment for months,” he pulls a crate out and the name grabs Valedent’s attention. Then the man’s name, Mirk Lordin, dawns on him as one of the people closely employed by the rebellion leader Thomas Kingsblade.
“Yeah, I gotcha,” Valedent grabs the crate and nods, carrying it downtown in the hollowed-out base of the winter mountains. He walks with a big group who are also carrying shipments to the mines and pass through a gate.
Valedent uses his memory working his way to the captain’s residence while fighting the urge to look around. If he were to be caught carrying this crate filled contents for the rebellion, which could tie him to the organization, it could turn the guards patrolling the area hostile. It had to be me this time, he shakes his head in thought. Keeping his head down, he arrives at the captain’s place and knocks on the door.
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