by Ben Alderson
“Well, regardless, Zac is right. You have not healed fully yet. You heard what the healer said about letting your body rest. I should let you—”
Jasrov hand shot across the space between them and touched her arm before Nyah turned away. “Please stay. Your conversation is taking my mind off the pain.”
He turned his lips down and opened his eyes wide in pleading.
“I’ll stay.”
“Whatever the healer did to you, it seems to have worked,” I said, getting a good look at the damage on his face. The purples had faded, and his cut had scabbed. His dark curls blew in the wind as the boat moved, showing the place where the bump had been. Now it was no more than a slightly darker shade than the rest of his skin.
“It was amazing,” Jasrov replied. "What I can remember about it anyway."
"At least you enjoyed yourself," I said, voice laced with sarcasm. For his age, Jasrov oozed the innocence of a youngling. It seemed to please Nyah, who did not stop smiling at him before shyly looking away as if I caught her doing something bad.
Bell snapped, involving herself in the conversation.
“Jasrov was just telling me about Bell. Such an interesting story. I’ve never met a familiar before.”
Jasrov seemed pleased with Nyah’s explanation. “Well, yes. I mean, it is pretty fun having one around.”
Was that a blush I could see spreading on his cheeks?
“I must admit I feel bad for not helping. There must be something I can do on board, anything at all. Just say, and I will do it.” Jasrov’s injuries spoke for themselves. "If you put me in charge of the food, I can make sure everyone is well fed with the supplies we have?"
“If you are feeling up to it…” Nyah said. "But you must promise me you will not push yourself."
Nyah reminded me of how Mam would speak to me back home. Jasrov seemed to love it, as he smiled at the attention Nyah gave him.
"Could you do me a favor first?" I asked Jasrov, looking over my shoulder at Emaline. "Go and ask if Emaline needs some company."
She had only just taken over from my second shift as the night twinkled with starlight. Before she even started, her face was pale and eyes heavy. I needed a short sleep. Something, anything, to get some energy back.
“How is she?” Jasrov asked, a shadow of concern clouding his face.
“Strong. Very strong.”
*
THE THREE DAYS journey passed in a blur of exhaustion.
It took a day for Emaline and me to figure out our levels of energy that were required to keep the boat moving. Emaline lasted longer than I; for after two hours, I was falling asleep on the spot. Our overenthusiastic start came to a halt when we all realized resting was necessary to keep going. On the first night, we stopped in a passing cluster of homes beside the river to rest. Hadrian spent most of the day leaning over the side of the boat and emptying his stomach. He was relieved when we stopped, and he got to stand on ground that was not constantly swaying.
Reaching the limit of my magick felt... wrong. First, I was watching the mast billowing under the force of my air, which screamed in pleasure from my use. But that soon would cease, leaving me with sharp pains in my head and heavy limbs.
Everyone was silent and tired on the last day. No one spoke a word. The only noise was the rushing water and the overplayed voice of the sailor who occupied us. His singing was as choppy as the waters we glided across.
Once we reached the port, I was thankful to see the back of the river and promised myself I would leave my magick alone for a few days. It was the least it deserved.
Illera had been quiet most of the journey, not entering conversations by keeping busy. If she was not sleeping, she was rushing around the boat, re-tying the mast ropes and scooping overflowing water back into the river.
It was the final morning, the gates of Lilioira visible in the distance like an illusion conjured by exhaustion, that Illera finally spoke.
She walked up behind me, hands red and cracked.
“They are going to hate me,” Illera grumbled. "Once they find out what I have done. Who I was with. They will exile me or worse."
That was the most I had heard of Illera over the past days. Her anxiety was palpable as she wrung her hands together.
Emaline was sat on the bench beside me as we both use our magick together for the final push to the city. She replied before I could form the words.
“No one is going to hate you because they will not know.” Emaline’s expression was void of emotion and voice matter of fact. She only turned to me for a moment. “Are they?”
“We have no reason to distrust you Illera,” I said, trying to keep my focus on channeling the air into our mast. “You are nothing more than a companion of ours.”
Illera sat down between us, her blond hair dirtied and matted in its ponytail. “What will you say?”
I felt the boat slow as Emaline disconnected from the water and looked at Illera. “You will be my guest. No one will question your presence, not if I can help it. Word of your connection with the Druid will not pass into the city. We will leave it on this boat.”
Illera smiled, something that before today would have me questioning her sincerity.
“They will notice my heritage. Why would a Niraen elf be on Eldnol soil, especially during times like these?” Illera questioned.
“Leave the explanation to me,” Emaline said, resting a hand on Illera’s shoulder. “You saved my life back at the temple; I will not forget that.”
Illera knew little about Nyah’s abilities, which had come in handy over this trip. I almost felt sorry thinking about it, but I had asked Nyah to check if Illera could be trusted. Nyah found no reason as to distrust Illera’s intent, something I had to keep telling myself over the many hours we were in such proximity to one another. I may still have been wary of her, but I trusted in Nyah’s power.
Illera placed a gentle hand on Emaline’s shoulder, which Emaline looked down at it with a hint of a smile.
"You do not even know me, yet you show me kindness," Illera breathed. “Thank you.”
Emaline nodded and focused back on the port ahead. Illera took that as her cue to leave. There was something in the lingering look Illera gave back before she busied herself again. I didn’t have long to dwell on it as Emaline pushed her final energies into the water, guiding me to do the same with my air.
*
WE DOCKED THE boat when we reached the bank. Nyah thanked the sailor who joined our journey, not that he did much to help. Between his singing and constant storytelling, he almost drove me mad.
The port was empty. As we guided the vessel slowly around the many jetties and extended walkways, we expected to see someone, anyone, amongst the buildings and posts. This was a place for ghosts now. No guards or soldiers. Not even the trill sound of birds clung to this place.
“Where is everyone?” Jasrov asked, climbing from the boat first. His bruising had faded over the three-day journey with the help of the salve that the Healer provided. Nyah had helped Jasrov apply it nightly in thick layers. I had not seen her with such gentle hands before.
The only sound I could hear was the gentle crash of water against the wooden poles propping up the jetty.
“No one is allowed in or out of Lilioira, not with the threat of another attack,” Nyah said, pressing her fingers to her temple. She was still for a moment; her brow pinched in concentration. “Queen Kathine knows we have arrived. She’s told me that we are to wait here for our escort. It will arrive shortly.”
Jasrov turned his head dramatically from Nyah to me, as if he couldn’t believe what Nyah was saying.
“You still have a lot to learn about me, fox boy,” Nyah said to him with a sheepish smile.
“I can’t wait!” Jasrov replied over-enthusiastically before looking away from our amused faces.
Nyah didn’t register it as she closed her eyes and shared a silent word with the Queen.
We stood around, waiting for a sign of an e
scort when Bell began screeching and pouncing. We looked up to see a small cloud of dust framing four riders who rode towards us.
The guards reached us with the speed of lightning. Each horse was monstrous in size, a multitude of colors and builds. The closest stallion was midnight black, with a thick mane of shining hair. The soldier atop was equally as large, a trait for most Alorian elves.
“The Queen requests your presence immediately.” The soldier atop the black stallion dismounted and strode towards us. His rich brown skin almost glowed in contrast to his uniform of ivory and whites. They were all dressed the same; the Queen’s emblem pinned to their cloaks: a beveled feather of silver and white captured on steel midfall.
Hadrian stood forward, his glowing blue hand outstretched in greeting.
“Your Highness,” the soldier greeted.
“If Queen Kathine needs us, let us return to her with haste,” Hadrian said, his regal aura returning after so many days. “You can see we are all in no fit state to have an audience with Kathine. May I request a bath before?”
"Certainly, your Highness. Queen Kathine has ensured rooms are prepared. You will be taken to them the moment we arrive,” the soldier responded
The soldier looked over the all six of us, then to Bell, who ran rings around his legs.
“We will need to enter in two groups,” he said. “Prince Hadrian, I have been asked to ensure you are in the first group. Is there a preference to who joins you?”
Hadrian turned to face us, the days’ worth of travel had made the whites of his eyes yellow. “Emaline, would you stay back with Illera for the time being? I am sure these fine soldiers will return to you both as soon as they can.”
I didn’t miss the unspoken word passed from Hadrian and Emaline. Emaline nodded, taking her place beside Illera who was visibly nervous by the soldier’s presence.
“We will see you soon,” I mumbled to Emaline and Illera. "Be safe."
Emaline raised a hand and the water behind her rose. "We are very safe. Do not worry about us."
Hadrian, Nyah, Jasrov and I were pulled up onto the back of a horse. Bell wrapped herself around Jasrov neck, her ears raised as we moved to the city.
We left our two companions in the dust of our horses. I didn’t stop looking their way until the billowing cloud blurred their forms. Then my attention was solely glued to the looming gates ahead.
Lilioira was hidden within the valley of mountains. The only way in or out was through the gates nestled in the rock face. Compared to the greens, greys and earthy tones of the surrounding view, the gates stood out like a sore thumb. Made from folded bronze and other strong metals, they decorated the rock face surrounding it with its grandeur. If Queen Kathine wanted to be inconspicuous, she failed. But somehow, I knew that was not what she was going for. She wanted those stupid enough to be enemies to see her power and strength before they got close to the city. The gates were no more than a message. A symbol.
The last time I had seen gates such as those before me was in Olderim. Much like Olderim, Lilioira’s gates had depictions carved into the metal surface. These were not as high and ominous. Instead, as we watched them open before us, I felt a rush of safety—a feeling I had forgotten existed during the past week.
From books and Fa’s tales, I knew Lilioira to be a kingdom rich in both coin and magick. A hub of life for many, some of which never leave the constraints of the cities walls. There was no need to leave when everything they possibly needed was inside. Besides adventure.
As the gates closed behind us, it shut out all light. For a moment nothing happened, but then bowls of fire burst into life, illuminating the long walkway before us in ruby flames. The passageway was carved in the belly of the mountain and led until it reached the valley beyond it. Where the city was found.
All around, I could smell earth. The bowls of flames gave enough light for me to see the steep walls of rock on either side of us. The passageway was carved though a mountain of sorts. I could not see where the ceiling was, as darkness lingered amongst the highest points.
The horses began to move once more, their hooves echoing around us.
No one spoke a word, making the smaller sounds even more obvious. The dripping of water and the clatter of reins. The puff of the horses as our soldier escorts guided them through the way.
Soon, a sliver of light could be seen ahead, which grew the closer we got to it. As we passed the bowls of fire, they extinguished in a hissing puff, leaving the passageway behind us dark once again.
Whatever magick laced this passageway was as mysterious as the city’s location.
A cold chill rushed to greet us. It howled through the narrow space, carrying a light scent of cherry blossom and orange. The closer we got, the narrower the passage became. We ended by walking in single file. Horses behind horse.
I was the last to leave the passageway. My head rang from the sudden white light beyond. I rubbed my eyes, wobbling in the saddle. Once my eyes adjusted to the light, I opened them, taking in my glance of the glory below.
Hadrian made no reaction and nor did Jasrov. He had seen it before. But I shared a look with Nyah, one that mirrored what we were both thinking.
A city of dreams. A place two common born elves from Thessolina would never dream of visiting.
“Welcome to Lilioira, city of light and life.”
NESTLED WITHIN THE craggy hillside below us, the city glowed with life. I looked down from a great height, seeing both its splendor and power. Constructed in a valley, Lilioira was protected on all sides by mountain faces. As if the Goddess herself punched down from the sky, creating a space between mountains for this very city.
Ivory colored buildings with pointed roofs and arched windows sat between large trees, waterfalls and crags. From where we looked, I could see the city was connected by walkways of tile and sandstone. Trees covered in pink blossom speckled the spaces between buildings. Countless bridges connected small streets to one another. There were so many small ravines cutting throughout the large city. I saw it’s source. A large waterfall misted the side of a mountain to the north of the city and ran throughout. That was what gave the air a fresh taste.
“I ask that you each dismount and walk the remainder of the way,” one of the soldiers said. “We will return for your friends and have them brought to your rooms before you are taken to see Queen Kathine.”
“Thank you,” Hadrian said, pushing himself from the horse and landing beside it. He patted the dark stallion’s behind.
In a trance, I climbed from the back of my chestnut colored horse and helped Jasrov from the back of his. Nyah jumped down effortlessly and walked to the edge of the path to look down.
“That is a very steep drop,” she mumbled, her legs shaking as she glared over.
“Rowan will guide you to the city.” He turned back to Hadrian and bowed his head. “Do not stray from her. With the current events, tensions are high in the city and newcomers are not as welcome as they once were.”
Rowan, the female soldier, stepped forward after clapping her horse on its behind. She removed her helmet and smiled, holding it beneath her arm. “Stick with me and you shall be fine.”
She was classic Alorian: beautiful, tall and her presence was strong. Her thick black hair was collected into a braid and hung over her shoulder. A long sword was strapped around her waist, its hilt wrapped in dark leather.
“Good to meet you all. Queen Kathine has waited patiently for your arrival. Let us not keep her waiting much longer shall we,” Rowan said.
As she stood, she rested on the Staff in her left hand. It was not until she began to walk ahead of us that I noticed her subtle limp. Her milky cloak trailed on the dirt path, which soon evened over to slabbed stone. Her Staff struck the stone path in a steady rhythm, echoing up the sharp mountain face beside us.
The farther we descended the narrow pathway, the more foliage and green we saw. Even the wall beside us was draped in bluebell creepers and thick emerald vines. We had to
walk in twos, or else there would not have been room for us on the path. Hadrian stayed up ahead talking to Rowan as we closed in on the city.
To enter Lilioira, we passed over a bridge so long it almost seemed to float over the rushing river beneath. Soldiers were stationed on each side of the bridge, spears held still beside them. I felt self-conscious under their gaze, but Rowan walked past them without a crease of concern on her face.
I had to stunt a laugh when Bell leaped from Jasrov shoulders and began to explore. A few times Jasrov had to call for her when she got too close to a soldier and began nipping at his steel boots.
The presence of the countless soldiers beyond Lilioira second gates told me all I needed to know. Queen Kathine believed an attack by the Druid was imminent.
“Open up,” Rowan called as she stopped before a set of gates. She raised her hands to the two gate guards who stood overlooking us from either side of the gate’s walls. “Come on, boys.”
After moving her hands in three specific signs, the gates rose. First, they just seemed like slabs of metal, but as they lifted higher, I saw sharp spear-like protrusions beneath which had been hidden in carved holes on the ground. If they fell upon the enemy, they would pierce straight through them.
Once the vibration of the gate signaled its stop, Rowan moved forward, tapping her Staff on the ground as she walked.
Hadrian slowed to walk beside me.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, head kept forward.
“Frustrated,” I admitted.
“It is because of the Staff?”
“I don’t think we should have given up. We are finally close, and you are…” I looked to him, “Well, are you feeling better?”
“Do not worry about me, Petal. It will be good to be in one place again. Maybe there is healer here who know more about Heart Magick. Gallion maybe. I am certain we will find another way to help me. Nothing bad will happen, I promise.”
With the warning of Cristilia’s story still floating in my subconscious, I could only worry about what it meant—leaving the Staff.
