by Swinn, J. D.
A resounding grumble had arisen when he woke the others, but he urged them on with repeated promises of a journey well worth their consciousness.
“Why on God’s green earth are you waking us at eight a.m. after a night like last night?” he remembered Mira’s voice demanding. Talar’s waking words had not been quite as tactful.
He knew daylight was steadily burning away, a lamp with precious little oil. Who could really be certain how much remained? The moment everyone declared they were ready, he scooped up the bags in one massive armful and descended the steps again with the same eagerness as earlier. He could feel his spirit beginning to lighten the surrounding moods, especially as the morning sun began to soak into weary skin. Max threw the bags into the trunk of the rusty old car he had rented, and shoved the map into Nameh’s hands.
“Navigator” he stated simply with a grin.
“Has anyone bothered to count seats?” Wyd cut in, asking a question Max had known was coming.
“Yeah, I know. Five seats, seven of us.” Max replied with a sigh. “Basically, we’ve got two options. We could either cram seven people into a five seat car, or use a transport spell to get some of us there.” The question hung in the air for a moment, though he was pretty sure he knew which option would beat out the other.
“Well there’s no way I’m getting in the car with all six of you, so at least I’m transporting there.” Wyd cut in.
“I’m with you on this one;” agreed Talar, “it could be a long drive.”
“Road trip!” called Mira, already jumping into one of the back seats. The group’s comfort with each other was at an all time high, and he suspected each person was compensating their feeling of loss with a feeling of gain.
“If we ever want to get there, I guess I’m in the car too.” agreed Nameh with a smile. He was glad Nameh would be driving with him, and Mira would be fun too. Seth and Cal stood between Wyd and the car, still undecided.
“And then there were two.” Max pressured playfully.
“I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’ve been for a drive.” Seth’s eyes lit up with his words in uncharacteristically youthful anticipation. Max was glad that someone understood why he had rented the car in the first place. “One more seat, Cal, are you up for it?”
“To tell you the truth, I hate car rides. I’ll hang back here.” Cal stepped back with the other two, and the small group waved their goodbyes after promises of meeting up at noon.
Walking around to the driver’s side of the car, Max reached through the open window to press the button that released the car’s roof. Metal screeched against metal as the old soft top slowly labored open. Despite what seemed like great effort on the car’s part, the roof remained halfway closed, and had to be coaxed back with a mechanical groan. When the ancient machine seemed ready at last for the road ahead, he settled into the driver’s seat and immediately felt at ease. There was something about driving that had always appealed to him, the sense of control and precise direction. Now, though, it was a slightly different sensation. Being alone in a car was one thing, but leading others along with you was another. He felt inches away from the escape he knew he needed, they all needed, desperately.
He pulled out of the tiny parking lot, and Nameh was already fiddling with the radio. She scanned through what seemed like hundreds of stations until she found one deemed acceptable by everyone in the car. An upbeat track was playing, a type of song that almost everyone remembered fondly from earlier years. He knew almost immediately that he had picked the worst person to navigate, though the best person to be sitting in the front seat. Already, Nameh was hopelessly distracted, lost in thought and catching stray bits of conversation. But she had her feet up on the side of the car beside the windshield, and the wind caught her white hair like the branches of a willow tree. Her dark eyes had a strange habit of capturing the sunlight, as though they knew only night waited ahead, and wanted to save it away for when clouds blinded even stars.
He watched the road, rushing by like a spinning record. He wished that he could run his fingers across it and listen to the stories it had to tell. Roads had probably seen the most people come and go, live and die, but still they were only roads. Still they were only ways of getting to another place, rushing through another part of your life. The road they were on was slowing them down, unlike most, reminding them that they had to live against the ticking of the clock, which counted off seconds lost almost imperceptibly in their ears. But when the days fell silent, the seconds were louder than thought itself.
Even so, he thought, measuring each second gone by was even more of a waste than letting them slip by unnoticed. He had no way of knowing what came ahead, and he couldn’t see an escape from death in his future, but he still had today. He still had warm air brushing past his skin, and sunlight settling on his features, and a car full of friends around him. He pulled his mind out of the despair it so easily slipped into, though it was almost comfortable in acceptance now. Although he had almost forgotten, he remembered why he was driving, why he had put so much effort into escaping the city, even life, for awhile.
They had finally reached a more rural area, and with Nameh occasionally pointing out turns, were making good progress. Suddenly, he realized that he had little idea what had been going on in the car up until this point. Apart from Nameh’s directions, he had tuned out most of the conversation and music with his thoughts.
“Everyone holding up okay?” he quietly put forward.
“It speaks!” teased Nameh, “Ready to join the land of the living?” He only laughed in response. “Plus, it would be helpful if you told me exactly where we’re going, considering I’m giving directions.”
“Can’t do it.” he replied smugly. “Do you want to completely ruin the surprise?”
“Aye aye, captain.” she mocked.
Mira perked up at the sound of conversation in the front of the car. “Hey skipper, make yourself useful and change the station.”
“Nothing country.” repeated Seth for the fourth time, “Unless, of course, you want to arrive at the mystery destination with only three remaining.”
“I’m sure you’ll just die.” said Mira sarcastically.
“Actually, I had planned on murdering the one responsible.” he retorted.
Nameh had fallen silent again, but in a comfortable manner that Max imagined was peace. Her eyes were fixed on a far off point on the horizon, and he wondered what she was thinking about. Maybe she was listening to the melancholy clock as well, or maybe just remembering something beautiful.
He fixed his hands loosely on the worn-smooth leather wheel, and thought he might let the car coast as far as it would take them.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: DESTINATIONS
Mira’s hair softly blew in the fading-summer wind. The sun beat down on worn cloth seats and soaked into drained bodies. It felt as though the light was filling up an empty space inside her that had been empty so long, she scarcely remembered what it felt like when filled. Max and Nameh chatted quietly in the front of the car, only backing her growing suspicion. Nameh had been acting strangely of late, and she was becoming more and more certain that Max had something to do with it. She probably shouldn’t question Nameh about it; she thought to herself, it was a rare occasion for her to be interested in romance at all.
Mira found herself, to her own surprise, wishing that the others could have come along. She decided Seth was too dark and quiet for her taste, though she didn’t by any means dislike him. Talar and Cal were bright and funny, while Wyd was uncomfortable around her, but kind. Max was a breath of fresh air: both free spirited and lighthearted, from what she could see. Every now and then, though, she could see a shadow pass over his features like ominous clouds on a clear day, but they would be gone nearly as soon as they had come. It left her wondering if she was simply imagining things, or if he held some deep, troubled soul inside a cheerful exterior.
The wind swam into her lungs as the small car pressed on toward som
e distant place she had no knowledge of. The funny part of it was, she didn’t have the slightest shred of care for where they ended up. The only direction she cared about was getting away from the massive and strangling city for a while. She didn’t think humans were ever intended to spend so much time trapped between the metal bars forged by skyscrapers’ shadows. After a certain amount of time, the very flesh of you calls out for sprawling fields and wide open nothingness, flowing water and rushing wind, sturdy trees and soft earth, and stone that lives, not tamed stone crushed by metal and poured into convenient footpaths. Man will never rid itself of the world that kept him alive, though it seems he will try to rip the roots from his very soul until the day he returns the life to the soil.
The last real road trip she had been on, she recalled, had been with her parents countless years ago. They had piled into the family van, Guardians used no magic after all, and driven the three hundred miles to her aunt and uncle’s house. She had sat in the very back seat, her stuffed animals piled up around her, and books spread out like a circle of friends. Books had always been her greatest companion; it was easy for her to become hopelessly lost in the thin pages, and she seldom wished to find her way.
She grew to like the stories her mother read to her the most, and she could still recall a great many of them. They would sit in a cozy house by the fireplace dreaming of times long gone. Her mother would weave fantastic stories of places long ago, when people could still tame dragons, and watch the world spread beneath them from their great backs. Some of her favorites had been about dragons, but she also loved the forest elves, Dwarfen wars, and powerful kings with kind hearts and dark secrets. Even now, nearly an adult, she longed to see a glimpse of the past, when half of the world wasn’t ignorant, and the greatest wonders of life hadn’t succumbed to time’s fading hand. She had relived the stories again and again, especially after her parents’ death, when her fairytale had come crashing down around her.
Thinking of her parents was a bit like brushing over scarred skin: unconscious and painless, but a reminder of when the wound had been fresh. Still, she pulled her thoughts away from dark times and let the music fill her mind in its stead.
Nameh was lounging in the front seat comfortably, the sun playing off an unfamiliar silver pendant she was wearing. “How long do you think we could drive before we completely ran out of gas?” Mira considered it for a moment, but she hadn’t driven a car in ages, and didn’t have much of a baseline. Max answered the hanging question, ending Mira’s struggle for an estimate.
“Probably only a few more hours, we’ve already been driving awhile. Good thing we’re almost there.” In his final words, she could sense an underlying sense of need. The excitement was plain, etched across his exterior, but beneath it dwelled a more urgent feeling, she thought.
“Thank god.” she voiced. She could only endure car trips for so long. On the bright side of things, which she normally searched for, the whole group needed to take their minds off of battle. They needed, for at least a day, to stop thinking of the Guild and the Relic, and Warlock. They needed to stop thinking of fighting, and battles, and death. For a change, they could think about how much gas they had left, and how long the clear blue skies would hold out before rain. She suddenly understood why Max had gotten the car; the change of pace was soothing. Her rushed feeling dissolved quickly after this realization, and she wished that the car would continue to roll on. Maybe it would carry them to a place wrought with less worry.
As the car’s tires crackled against the loose stone path, Nameh’s eyes lit up in a way they hadn’t for years. Before her, above an outline of trees, the ocean spread its deep blue wings in greeting to the travelers. It was a calm day, so it seemed from this distance; they were just close enough to see the foam-painted crest of each wave. She had always loved the ocean, but it had never brought the same sense of freedom and relief as it did now. Everyone in the car, aside from Max of course, gave a small gasp at the beauty of the place. As they descended the path, the car slowed as Max became more cautious. He parked beside a tight grove of trees at the point where the trail narrowed to a footpath. There were no other cars in sight, and no people to speak of, either. The only sound that reached their ears was that of the waves crashing on shore, the gentle pull of the water itself nearly echoed a plea for silence. “Shh,” it gently whispered to those more than willing to obey.
Max was clearly familiar with the area, and he grabbed as much as he could from the trunk to start down the overgrown path with. The others followed suit, and Nameh slammed the trunk shut behind them. They picked their way along the trail, which appeared to have been in solitude for quite some time. As refreshing as the car ride had been, the very air of this place brought new meaning to the word. Briny air coated her skin with a thin, pleasant film, and left her hair scented with the ocean’s perfumes. When the trees receded and the path opened up to the water’s edge, Nameh could see the full splendor of the hidden paradise. Trees surrounded the spot on all sides, completely secluding the small pebble beach. Water-smoothed stones dappled the shoreline in varying shades of gray, brown, and earthen red. The sea reflected the early afternoon sun’s light with earnest, and the water shimmered with a dazzling and nearly blinding glow.
As the group took in the scenery, Nameh studied Max’s face. If ever she had seen a person grow lost in memory, it was him then. His eyes softened at the untouched sight, likely exactly as he recalled it. The ocean seemed to have the same effects on everyone, as though its lapping waves could somehow wash away feelings of responsibility and dissolve tightly-held inhibitions. The day was hot for the time of year, strangely so, and mere moments passed before every member of the group stood up to their waists in ocean. She relaxed so much, she realized later, that she didn’t sense the tracking spell Wyd placed on them to make his transport spell more exact.
When the three who had stayed behind suddenly arrived, everyone displayed some surprise. Time, and all of its constraints, had slipped away more easily than any could have imagined. None had realized what a toll living the life of a Markbearer had been until they escaped for a day. Nameh laughed like she had stopped believing was possible, and saw smiles pass Mira’s lips that she could barely recall from years past.
“You made it!” cried Max’s lifted voice. Wyd’s voice still retained the flatness they’d all had hours ago.
“Barely. That was a bigger jump than you said it’d be. I’m exhausted.” He flopped down at the shoreline, just outside of the reaching water’s grasp.
“All that matters is that you did make it.” Mira stated practically. Talar and Cal were still in awe of what the others had already absorbed.
“So what do you think?” Max managed through a grin.
“It’s amazing.” Cal put simply.
“Leave it to Max to find the best private beaches.” Talar seemed instantly at ease. Wyd sat silent among the pebbles, though it seemed he appreciated the change of scenery as much as any of the others. Sometimes Nameh thought he placed the most stress on himself, being the only warlock in the group. At least no more magic would be required of him today until it was time to return home. She pushed the thought out of her head the moment it entered. Today was her day to live in the present, instead of for the future, as usual.
“Get in the water!” She called to the newcomers. Playfully, she scooped a handful of water and splashed it onto those who still remained dry. Talar and Cal required little convincing to join them, though Wyd seemed hopelessly landlocked. Half in protest to his stubbornness, and half on a whim, she dove gently below the surface of the cool, velvety water. The salt water gave the illusion of being nearly weightless for a moment, and she hung suspended just beneath the surface. The waves gently rocked her until hands grabbed hold of her and thrust her back into the air. She gasped for the breath she had surrendered to surprise to find Talar tossing her back into the water several feet away.
They played, light and carefree as children, for hours before they re
alized that the sunlight was fading. In the back of her mind, however, Nameh could not completely let go of reality. Somewhere, buried beneath the relief, sat the knowledge that at the end of the day, they would have to pick up their swords and begin where they left off. The Guild would not wait for their reprieve. Even the short day that they relished now was a risky move, at the least, when they grew closer each hour to winning the Relic. Shadows on the shoreline grew longer and longer, devouring their remaining time in black maws as they grew. They measured each laugh, splash, and smile like a half-living clock, lying in wait.
When the sun set, everyone wordlessly agreed to put off their departure, which had been planned for sunset. Puffy white clouds slowly faded into wispy brushstrokes stretched across a burning fire sky, laced across the bottom on either side by the horizon, black as ash. The blazing orange crept into the day-blue slowly and surely as an inkblot, the two striking opposites creating a blend between them that was no discernible color. The ocean absorbed and reflected each new enthralling color and shade. A lone star emerged above the sunset, a single star that shone proudly like an adorning silver bead. It did not flicker, as many stars do, but held a constant and almost defiant light. It seemed, to Nameh, that it knew precisely where its place in the sky was. Clear and pure as a diamond, the star was soon joined by millions of others as the ink-black night swallowed the painted sun.
Just along the ocean’s horizon, a lingering golden stain streaked the night sky, the memory of the day they would always cling to. Melancholy set in with the realization that their time away from reality had come to a close.
