Wavebreaker

by A. J. Norfield

  When she found them, Xi’Lao had been so glad to see Raylan, Sebastian and Galirras alive she momentarily forgot the awkwardness between them and uncharacteristically hugged every single one of them. Raylan hoped it meant they could find themselves good friends again sometime soon and not let his brother’s death leave a permanent fracture between them.

  “All the dogs have returned,” said Raylan, still shocked by the state of the city.

  “Probably a good sign.”

  “It’s like the world ended,” added Raylan.

  “For many, it did,” said Xi’Lao solemnly. “We had better get moving. Richard is waiting.”

  “He’s really going to leave all this behind without telling Lord Algirio—or the Azurna councilmen, or any of them—anything?”

  Raylan still could not wrap his head around it, even if he had told Lord Algirio everything himself already. The official chain of command did nothing to help these people.

  “Those were the king’s orders,” she said. “We’re called to council to verify our ‘unbelievable claims’, as Richard said they called it.”

  “This is not some made-up thing,” exclaimed Raylan.

  “I know. Though it must seem pretty unbelievable to them.”

  “Surely Lord Algirio will confirm everything. And I mean, Galirras is right here. They can hardly deny his existence when I put him right in front of them in Shid’el. They need to get ready to fight, or Aeterra will be trampled.”

  Behind them, their squad was getting ready to depart. Only Harwin would follow later, when he was healed up. The rest of them would go immediately, to respond to the king’s order that had arrived by carrier pigeon. It had not said much; just that they were to return to Shid’el without any further delay and keep their mouths shut.

  “Do you think it was the Stone King? The wave, I mean,” Raylan asked Xi’Lao.

  “And sacrifice all his own men? I do not believe that.”

  “Why not? These men would rather throw themselves from an airship than talk. They’re expendable.”

  Xi’Lao was silent for a moment, considering his reasoning.

  “Still, it would be a stretch, would it not? That one man could do this.”

  “You tell me. You’re the one who talks about everything having an energy, and masters who are able to perform acts far surpassing any normal human possibility.”

  He looked at his own arm, clenching his fist a few times. When he looked at Xi’Lao again, he saw a shiver run through her.

  “It is a terrifying thought that a man could possess such power,” she said. “But if it were him—whoever he is—why does he not make use of the fact that everything lies in ruins? Where is the rest of his army to finish the job? You would expect them to exploit the situation. Yet there are no other ships around for miles. Galirras said so himself; he flew out this morning to check.”

  “Yeah, he told me when I woke up,” admitted Raylan. He suddenly let out a frustrated cry. “I don’t know! Perhaps you’re right. I just hate not knowing our enemy. Here we are, trying to warn everyone, and we’re just grasping at straws. Who is the Stone King? What does he want?”

  Raylan descended from the walls, unsatisfied. He did not like the fact he may never know what really happened—or how they could prevent it from happening ever again. He packed his belongings and said his goodbyes to their hosts, apologizing for the fact they could not stay to do more.

  “You have done more than could have been expected from you, Mister Stryk’ard,” assured Lord Algirio.

  The lord smiled, his hand resting on the small of Lady Leandra’s back. “And rest assured, I will look into the events of the past few days in great detail. You just make sure those big heads at the capital take you seriously.”

  Raylan gave an appreciative nod.

  “I’ll do my best,” said Raylan before turning to Brenton. The Talkarian prince had joined the lord and lady of the city to see them off. “What about you?”

  “We’ll be stuck here a while longer. I’m sad to say most of our sailors didn’t make it, so we need to replenish our crew. The Hammer and the Forge are beyond repair, shattered on the cliffs north of the city. But it looks like we can still save the Twins from an early demise, even if it will take time to make her seaworthy again. And though it does not make up for the loss of lives, I’m still glad the cargo was already offloaded. We’ve been finding crates all over town and a number were already at the castle, so all wasn’t lost. It should be enough to pay for repairs and return to Tal’Kabur.”

  “Do not worry about the costs, Prince Baltor. We will see to it your ship is as good as new. It is the least we can do in thanks for your services.”

  “Thank you, Lord Algirio. A gesture most welcome,” said Brenton with a polite bow.

  The prince shook Raylan’s hand.

  “Be well on the road.”

  “And you at sea,” answered Raylan.

  “Thanks. For the time being, my men and I will continue to offer help and get the city back on its feet. At least until the ship is fixed. I’ve sent word back home about all that has happened. They need to be warned about recent events.”

  “Prince Baltor kindly offered to lend his organizational expertise to prepare for any other unexpected circumstances that may arise,” added Lord Algirio.

  “I can only hope none of it will be needed. But I fear this was just the beginning. Many more ships are out there,” said Raylan. “Be safe.”

  He turned around, but turned back again.

  “Brenton? Can I ask you a favor?” he said. “Can you check on Harwin every now and then? He will be bedridden for a few weeks, and I’m sure he’ll enjoy the company.”

  “Of course.”

  Moments later, Galirras took off for a quick hunt while their group set out. Those who had seen the dragon in action during the last few days cheered their goodbyes. It was nice to see a different kind of reaction from the common folk, as well as the soldiers. Most of the people’s fears had dropped away and the guards had willingly let go of their caution toward the dragon.

  Riding out of the ruined city on horseback, Raylan found himself in the company of Sebastian. His friend had a strange look on his face.

  “What?” asked Raylan.

  “I told my sister to get out of the city,” Sebastian said apologetically. “Apparently, there are some distant relatives living in a village miles up the river. They’ll head there first thing tomorrow morning. I hope they’ll be safe there.”

  “Safer than here,” said Raylan gloomily. “Did you tell them about the Doskovian invasion force?”

  Sebastian nodded.

  “I couldn’t help myself—”

  “I know. I understand,” Raylan broke in, holding up a hand. “I actually told Lord Algirio everything, right after the ghol’m attack.”

  Sebastian let out a whistle.

  “Richard’s not going to be happy about that.”

  “He doesn’t know. He still thinks Lord Algirio is in the dark about why those ships showed up. Let him. If he so desperately wishes to follow the rules, that’s his choice. But perhaps now they have a chance. When the next ships come. To get out, or defend the city. Their home.”

  Raylan saw his friend’s face brighten as it dawned on Sebastian once more that he had truly made it home to his family, against all expectations. But his expression quickly grew dark when the former slave looked around.

  “Too bad there’s not much left to defend.”

  Chapter 16

  Sand

  The sun was high. The air felt dead calm, not even the lightest breeze to provide any form of comfort. Without the wind, the heat weighed thick in the air. Trista filled her water bag from a clouded pool they had run across at the bottom of a rock formation. Beside her, Decan dropped to his knees and put his entire head underwater to cool down. When Trista stepped back, Dalkeira went one step further than Decan and jumped in completely. She tried to catch a fish, but quickly gave up; they were barely bigger t
han crickets and not worth the energy.

  Crickets. Those small, annoying animals Dalkeira had the displeasure of knowing. Trista said they were on the island, too, but Dalkeira had not heard them there. Now, with the constant noise they were making, the tiny jumpers quickly got on her nerves. Dalkeira had tried to get her revenge, but they did not taste very good. Now she mostly took joy from flying very low to the ground and making them all jump up at once before landing back in the grass again. It provided a moment’s respite before the constant chirping began again.

  “Why couldn’t we just follow the coast?” complained Decan, pulling his head out of the water.

  “You heard what the man said, right? Villages along the entire coast are being plundered and destroyed. They take no prisoners; they just kill everyone! Why would we want to stay there?” said Trista.

  “But there’s nothing out here. And I’m hungry! We searched for water for two days before we finally found this…puddle, and we haven’t seen any remotely edible plants. And the lizards we catch are smaller than my hand! What do you suppose we eat next? Crickets?”

  Tears mixed with the water on his face.

  “Look, I know you’re frustrated, and hungry, but there’s little I can do. The hares we spot are so fast they even outrun Dalkeira, so we’ll have to make do with what we can catch. There’s no way we’re going back toward the coast. You’ve seen the b—” Trista stopped herself mid-sentence. She did not want to unnecessarily remind Decan of the horrors they had seen. “You’ve seen the soldiers. Do you want to get caught again?”

  She crossed her arms. The move reminded her of her mother.

  “Besides, Dalkeira wants to go west, and I don’t hear you coming up with anything better. Do you?” She frowned at him. “Have a better idea?”

  “N-no,” said Decan softly.

  They were all hungry and it did not help the mood of their little group. They had been walking for days. At first, Trista had been glad no one had found them on the beach. They had taken their time getting organized before moving farther west. But before long, they had run into the first dead bodies on the mainland. Men, women and children all lay slain by the side of the road, their possessions either taken or set ablaze.

  They had come across similar horrifying scenes at least three or four times. Every single time there were no survivors and the dead were left to rot under the scorching heat. Trista was accustomed to warm summers, but on their island the wind always provided some deliverance from the burning sun. Her pale skin had never liked direct sunlight much, so in summer she wore long sleeves to protect it. Here, it seemed the farther inland they went, the more the sun became the ruling element, and her clothes were worse for wear. These were clearly the sun god’s lands, and her skin was not happy about it. The irony of being a so-called child of the sun god herself had not escaped her these last few days.

  They had avoided every place that showed black columns of smoke and even successfully dodged two soldier patrols they had nearly run into. It became clear that this area was as dangerous as their own island the night they left. They had almost been safer at sea. Almost. At least here they had quite a few things to hide behind, although every day there was less vegetation as they moved further west.

  A few days ago, they had come across their last piece of civilization. It had been a farm of some sorts. Dalkeira swore it was a goat farm, recognizing the smell, but there were no animals around anymore.

  Part of the house had still been smoldering; they were lucky not to run into any soldiers. But as they got closer, Trista had seen a man slouched against one of the outside walls. As they approached him, the man nervously tried to get to his feet and run away, but the two arrows in his stomach prevented him from doing anything of the sort. After they assured him they meant no harm and Dalkeira had no intention of eating him, the man had spent his last breaths telling them about the soldiers. According to the farmer, stories from along the entire coast had mentioned the black ships arriving and their soldiers killing everyone in sight.

  “I thought we were far enough from the coast. Away from the fishing villages. I hoped they wouldn’t bother coming so far inland,” the man had said, slipping in and out of consciousness.

  “Oh, my poor babies. They killed my sweethearts…”

  Tears flowed from his eyes. He mumbled other words, parts of which they could not fully understand. It seemed the man saw a world separate from theirs.

  “It won’t be long now,” Dalkeira had said after a while.

  Trista had no idea how the dragon had known, but she was right. Once more the man had opened his eyes and looked at them.

  “Oh, you’re still here. You are…so kind…to keep a dying man company. But…you’ve got to get out of here. You hear me? Take anything that’s left, you can have it all. Then get out of here, before they decide to come back. Others came by…villagers. They went west…toward the rolling hills. Cross them, and you might be safe.”

  It was the last thing he said. So they had searched the house, or at least the part that had been saved from the fire. They found clothes to replace their own, and Trista had taken two water bags she found in a corner. She also filled her own from the well behind the house.

  After the farm, they had not encountered anyone else. No people, dead or alive, and luckily no soldiers either. The lack of food was becoming a problem, but not as much as the lack of water.

  Dalkeira stuck her muzzle in the pool for the fifth time, drinking as much as she could. The dragon had shown that she could drink large amounts of water and then go without a drop to drink for days. It was like her body had its own internal water bags. But Trista and Decan had no choice but to rely on their external water bags, making sure to ration their water as much as possible.

  Dalkeira wobbled over to the siblings, fully filled. Decan moved to the side, trying to avoid being close to Dalkeira as Trista handed him a small piece of dried meat. Dalkeira looked at the boy, her swirling pupils gazing calmly into his own deep brown eyes.

  “What does she want from me? She’s always staring at me,” complained Decan in his child’s voice.

  Trista sighed. The situation between her little brother and Dalkeira had not improved at all. Dalkeira had tried to talk to him multiple times, but Decan only heard growls and rumbles.

  “She just wants to know why you’re always so afraid of her.”

  “I’m not afraid of her,” countered Decan, upset.

  “Well, it certainly looks that way.”

  “I’m not! And I’ll prove it!”

  Decan walked straight up to Dalkeira, his stride so unexpectedly bold that Dalkeira spread her wings and raised herself on her hind legs in response. The dragon was quite something to look at. Her wings had become a lighter blue on the inside. At first, it looked like the wings were turning green here and there. But now, after a few weeks, Trista spotted the first darker yellow patches coming through. The brown-yellow was a stark contrast to the deep blue of the rest of her body and the top side of her wings.

  Standing on her hind legs, Dalkeira was now larger than Decan. Her long neck arched as she lowered her head to the same height as the boy’s. Trista felt the dragon’s nervousness; this was very uncommon for Decan. Dalkeira hissed at him.

  But against all reason, Decan seemed unimpressed by the dragon’s display of size and strength. His face moved closer to Dalkeira’s, and he pointed a finger at her that reminded Trista of their father when he was about to lose his temper.

  Guess we both have something of our parents in us.

  “I’m not afraid of you. I just don’t like you! Why do you have to meddle in everything we do? Why do we need to follow you? Do you have any idea what’s out there? No. You’re just a baby,” Decan screamed. Tears were running down his face again. “You had no right to take Rudley away from me, like you have no right to come between me and my sister.”

  For a moment, Dalkeira looked like she wanted to pounce on the insolent boy. Instead, she turned around
so that her tail knocked his legs from under him. Decan looked at the dragon with a child’s anger on his face.

  “Suddenly he is all talk, and I am unable to say anything in return that he can hear,” Dalkeira said inside Trista’s head.

  “Oh, stop it, you two,” exclaimed Trista, throwing her hands up in the air. “You’re both acting like spoiled children. Decan, I understand that Rudley meant something to you, perhaps a touch of home or a sense of normal, but this isn’t normal. We’re running for our lives, and Rudley would’ve led the soldiers right to us. I can understand you’re angry, but Dalkeira only did what she deemed necessary to keep us alive.”

  She crouched in front of Decan and offered her hand. Reluctantly, he took it and got back to his feet.

  “Listen, you’re my little brother and I love you. I’d do anything to keep you safe—including killing your pet goat if I had to. We’ve been through a lot already and it’s okay to be scared, but there’s no reason to be afraid of Dalkeira.”

  “I’m not!”

  “But even if you were, you don’t have to be. She’s one of us. You’d see that more if she could just talk to you. It’s the three of us out here. It’s all we have. We need to be able to count on each other. So, if you’re not afraid, then please stop moping and let’s work together to figure out how we can stay out of the soldiers’ hands.”

  Decan stayed silent.

  Well, at least he doesn’t deny it anymore, thought Trista.

  She turned toward Dalkeira, who had been listening from a distance.

  “And you, my ocean beauty, how can such a magnificent creature feel jealous at having to share my attention?”

  “I am not!” said Dalkeira as the remark hit home.

  “It’s fine, really. I’m yours and you’re mine. I don’t doubt that for a second, but you've got a package deal. Every day, I am grateful to feel your warmth—even if it is already scorching hot. But family’s important, too. And you’re part of that family now. Which means we’ll look out for each other, even if we don’t always see eye to eye.”