by C. K. Rieke
Through the fog, they could both tell that the sun was beginning its descent. Just before the sunset, a red glow permeated the thick air around them, causing the world to glow a dark crimson. As Fewn was opening her mouth for the first time that day to talk to Kera, Kera darted over to her right, towards a large rock half her height. Fewn closed her mouth in surprise and followed to see what she was running towards.
Kera dropped to her knees at the base of the rock, glowing red from the sunset, and she began to dig with both hands. Fewn went over, and watched as Kera dug into the sand, and she recognized the familiar sound of water pooling into a makeshift well. Fewn dropped her pack on her back and began to dig, helping Kera. As the water gathered into a large pool in the hole they were digging, a wide smile grew across Kera’s face, her white teeth showing in the red glow. She looked over at Fewn, and Fewn couldn’t resist but smile widely back.
Fewn reached back and produced an animal skin to place in the hole, to filter out the sand, and let the clean water filter in. As the water slowly began to seep into the hole they’d dug, Kera lifted a handful into her mouth and drank quickly, a sigh of relief left her dried throat. She took another, and then Fewn reached in and took one, and then another. Water flowed down her mouth at both sides. What didn’t make it to her mouth fell back to the pool in heavy drops. The water level grew again, and as with as much as they drank, they watched as the water seemed to endlessly roll back in.
With a twist of her wrist, Fewn splashed up the water at Kera’s face, and it hit her on the cheek. Kera gave an insulted scorn, and splashed up a larger handful back at Fewn, who shielded her face, but splashed back. The two both began to laugh, hiding their faces but splashing each other, and the water continued flowing.
“All right, all right,” Fewn said. “I yield, I yield.” Her breathing was exhausted from laughing. Her face was soaked, as the dried dirt began to roll down her face.
Kera’s laughing slowed as she caught her breath. Fewn looked at Kera then, her black hair rustled down her face, and she stared into her piercing gray eyes. It was like looking into the soft glow of the moon’s reflection on water— mesmerizing. She looked at the streaks of water trickle down her young, pale cheeks, creating lines between the sand on her face like cracks on the desert floor. Fewn reached over and let her hand touch Kera’s face gently, and Kera didn’t flinch. Fewn let her thumb began to wipe away the dirt from her face. She reached over and grabbed a thin rag from her pack, dipped it into the cool water, and wiped away the dirt from Kera’s forehead and nose. All the while staring into Kera’s eyes.
To Kera’s surprise, tears began to well into the Fewn’s eyes, and she stopped wiping Kera’s face. She continued to stare deeply into the young girl’s pale, gray eyes. A single tear rolled down her cheek.
“What’s wrong?” Kera asked in a soft voice. She watched as Fewn’s lip began to quiver, which she tried to bite down on to stop, but then more tears began to streak down.
“Nothing,” she said. “It’s just the water, the water is making me emotional.”
“Oh,” Kera said, sounding disappointed, and she stood up and began to walk away.
Fewn stared at the pooling water, and she caught a reflection of her face in the red glow. She lifted a hand up to her face, and she began to cry— harder.
“Kera,” she said softly while sobbing. “It’s not the water— it’s you.”
Kera stopped her walking and turned to watch Fewn cry, while wrapping her arms around herself. “What?”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry for what I’ve done, for what I am.”
Kera hesitated, but then walked over to Fewn and put her arms around her and said nothing.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she said. “I never did, I betrayed her, I betrayed you. I don’t want to give you to them, I was just— I’m scared.”
“Me too,” Kera said, wrapping Fewn in her arms tighter.
Fewn rose up to her knees and turned to wrap Kera in her arms. “Please forgive me, I don’t want you to leave me, I don’t want you to be upset with me. I know what I did was wrong, but I didn’t think I had a choice. I’m a monster. Lilaci is dead because of me— I killed her.” She sobbed violently into Kera’s shoulder.
“She’s not dead,” Kera said. “She’s too strong.”
Fewn continued to cry into Kera’s shoulder, her face streaked with tears. “No. She’s dead. I killed her. It’s all my fault.”
“She’s not dead, Fewn. I can feel it. Lilaci is still alive.”
“How do you know?” Fewn asked, raising her head, her wet eyes looking for an answer.
“I know,” she said. “I have these ‘visions.’ That’s what the Order of Drakon called them. But it’s more like someone is whispering into my head sometimes. They’re speaking to me now.” Kera’s eyes grew wide. “They’re telling me that Lilaci is alive, and that she’s coming for me.”
“They’re speaking to you now?” Fewn said, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “What else are they saying?”
“They’re saying . . . you need to take me somewhere. You need to take me to . . . Duen Utülm Drakon. There’s something there. Something high up on the cliffs, in a cave. It’s in a box of Whitewood with golden hinges. There’s something inside— something placed there long ago. I’m the only one who can open it. There’s something in the box I need to bring the dragons back.” Then Kera’s eyes closed and her chin dropped to her chest, as if she was exhausted.
“Kera . . .” Fewn said softly. “Kera? Are you alright?”
Kera took a long pause. “I know what I need to do now. You need to take me to the Dune of the Last Dragon.”
“What about Lilaci?” Fewn asked. “Shouldn’t we wait for her?”
“No, she will find us.”
“Lilaci’s alive?” Fewn looked surprised, and then laughed, throwing her head back and clapping her hand to her forehead. “She’s going to kill me!”
“Probably,” Kera said with a straight face. “But it’s not too late. You can change, everyone can. It’s about the decision you make now. I trust you’ll find it in your heart to make the right one. Will you take me?”
“So, you can forgive me?” Fewn looked longingly into Kera’s eyes.
Kera seemed to ponder that moment. “You’ve got to start trusting in yourself more and trusting me. You once said you wanted to be a family, and family can make mistakes and be forgiven. If you truly want my forgiveness, this can be the first step. But I’ll say this— if you ever betray me again— you may as well take me directly to the gods after, because I may be forgiving, but I’m no fool. I’ll give you a second chance, but only one. Hopefully Lilaci will be as merciful when she comes.”
“Lilaci,” Fewn said. “You’re going to have to talk with her before she sees me, if she really did make it.”
“When Lilaci comes,” Kera said, “I'll be lucky to get out a single word before she wreaks her revenge on you.”
Chapter Ten
“What was that? Did you see that? Over there, up on the hill. You didn’t see it?”
“You sure you saw something? What was it?”
“It was just out of the corner of my eye, but I thought I caught a shadow or something moving along the top of that long hill,” he said.
Lilaci stared at the hill. It carved elegantly along the corner of the flat desert they were walking. She surveyed keenly for any sign of life. Her and Roren both watched, waiting for something, anything.
“It’s been days since we saw them on the other side of the mountain,” she said. “If that pack of Scaethers was following us, I would think they would’ve attacked us by now.”
“Unless . . .” he said.
“Unless what?”
“If they are still following us— what’s more important, us or her?”
Lilaci thought about that statement for a minute. “So, let's assume they are hiding out there from us, and they’ve seen that Kera isn’t with us. You think th
ey might be thinking we would lead them to her? Is that what you’re saying?”
“I’m saying that if that’s the case . . . I don’t want to lead them to her, as I’m sure you wouldn’t want either. But we don’t even know if they’re out there, let alone following us.”
“That’s a risk I’m not willing to take,” she said. “I would rather die than have those bastards lay their hands on her.”
“Aye.”
Lilaci sighed. “But we haven’t even seen a trace of her. All we have is the word of your spirits. The longer we don’t have her, the longer she’s in danger.”
“I hate to say this, but even when we are together again, she will still be in danger, even with us.”
“We are stronger together,” Lilaci said, her violet eyes dancing wildly in the sunlight’s reflection.
“Agreed,” Roren said. “Shall we press on?”
They continued on the hard sands, hot winds biting their faces under the midday sun overhead. They were walking northeast, past the Zont-ils. The ground in the Gorx region was turning from sand to rock slowly, and the flat, desolate stretch of the desert behind them was turning a rocky outstretch, as if the mountains far in the distance grew roots that stretched for hundreds of miles. Long winding roots that protruded from the sand, weaving their way in and out of the sands.
Roren didn’t catch any other sign, or false sign, of anyone following them that long day. Eventually, a few hours away from dusk, they made their way up a rocky outcrop that carved up over another rock like a gigantic dragon’s claw. Lilaci reached down and Roren grabbed her hand, and she helped heave him up to the top of the rock with her. They were reaching a high vantage point so they could survey the area. First, they both immediately checked the area behind them.
“Nothing,” Roren said. “That’s good.”
Lilaci didn’t respond, she only continued staring out into the horizon behind them. She examined the thousands of rocks scattered across the desert floor. With the sun behind them, they cast long shadows towards them. It reminded her of a graveyard at twilight.
Roren turned to look to the east and shot his hand over and grabbed Lilaci. She spun around instantly to see what had caused him to react so. She saw then what he did.
“How many are there?” he asked.
“Hundreds, easy,” Lilaci said.
Four miles out, they both were staring at a migration of deren, slender animals of light fur with long curling tails. They were mostly prey in the desert, killing all vegetation in their path. But they made for a good meal, but were difficult to kill, especially in such numbers.
“There are so many of them,” Roren said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Nor have I,” she said.
“We could get enough food for a month if we just got two of the beasts,” he said, licking his lips.
“Then two we’ll get.”
Lilaci knew the deren were agile animals with keen senses, yet at night they lay in packs, and although their senses were still alert even when asleep, they were vulnerable. They ran the better part of three miles to catch up to the pack as the sun slowly sunk into the hills behind. A smile crept across her face, she’d missed the hunt. Once the pack was in sight again, they both watched it as they lay on the desert floor like a royal carpet decorating a great hall.
The pack hadn’t noticed them— yet— but they had to be cautious. They were still hundreds of yards out.
“We need to get close enough for you to use that bow, Lilaci. We can creep low along that rocky ridge over there,” he said. Lilaci watched as his pointed finger followed the ridge like a great animal’s spine poking up out of the sand. She nodded, and they both went off, creeping low. They were both careful to make their footsteps as silent as the wind. They reached the end of the ridge and Lilaci poked her head out to the side.
“They’re still out of reach of an arrow,” Roren said. “We’re going to have to get closer.” He began to inch past Lilaci, ready to run out into the open to hide behind another rock.
“Wait,” Lilaci said. “I can shoot from here.”
“There’s no way you could make that distance, that’s twice an archer’s maximum.”
“I’m no royal archer,” she said, and her eyes glowed in a purple haze that crept up around her head like a small fire. Her shoulder lit in the same majestic glow, and it flowed down her right arm as she reached back and pulled an arrow from the quill at her back. Roren watched as the moment she placed the arrow on the bowstring and pulled it back taught, the arrow lit in a violet fire. He inched back as he felt the intense heat, yet it appeared Lilaci felt nothing. Then she stood, exposing herself behind the rock, and hundreds of pairs of eyes shot over at her and the purple fire. There was a long pause, like the moment two armies felt when they stood before each other on the battlefield, nervous with anticipation, and with death surely to follow.
She loosed the arrow, and instantly the herd began to move as if the trembling’s of an earthquake had begun, as every deren leapt from their rest. Roren watched as the arrow flew towards the heavens. He was speechless at its incredible arc into the night sky. Lilaci quickly drew back another arrow and flew after the other, its flames whipping behind it. He was in awe and looked over a Lilaci, who stood without drawing back another arrow, she only watched as they began their downward descent. They were nearly as small as the stars as they loomed down on the deren.
As the first arrow hit, it impacted the ground with an explosion that shot two of deren flinging into the air, the next fell directly into one of the beasts, and knocking two others over to their sides. Lilaci was off quickly, running towards the impact points, Roren followed.
By the time they got there the last tail of the herd was disappearing behind the rocks to the north, and there before Lilaci and Roren were five deren; four dead and one dying. Lilaci went over and took the arrow from the one closest to her, and walking over to the last deren, screaming and moaning, she knelt next to it, laid her hand on its injury and whispered a soft prayer. Then she ended the deren’s pain with the arrow.
Lilaci looked over to see Roren grinning ear to ear. “That was incredible,” he said.
“Don’t just stand there, get a fire going. I thought you were hungry.”
“I haven’t been this full in ages,” Roren said. “I almost forgot what not going to sleep hungry felt like. I could get used to this.” He lifted his arms up, put his hands behind his head and fell hard on his back onto his canvas cloth on the sand. He laid there, looking up at the stars as the fire crackled off the animal fat that slowly dripped onto the coals underneath.
Lilaci smiled widely as she took another bite of the dark meat. The rest of the meat was slightly tough, as the deren was such a muscular animal, yet they had begun by eating the heart— tender and flavorful. She wiped the juices that ran down both sides of her mouth. She relished this moment, as it was always a treat to enjoy something fresh and as rejuvenating as hot meat on a chilly desert night. There’s only one thing that could make this night any better. I wish you were here, Kera. There’s nothing more I wish than to see you fed and with a belly full of water as you sleep on the sands. This is your home— with me, and my home is wherever you are. She looked up to the stars. I can only just hope that you are safe. If there is any good in the gods up there, watch over her please. Perhaps there are some other gods I don’t know of— good ones— if you hear this please keep her safe until I come. I’ll protect her with everything I am, everything I have.
“Deep in thought?” Roren asked. His blue eyes were lit by the golden fire, and his normally bald head and shaved face were fuzzy with dark hair growing in. A bone necklace of white, cracked teeth and claws laid on the sand next to him.
“I was just thinking—” she said, “—I hope we find her in time.”
“Aye, me too. I believe we will. She’s a strong girl, and smart as a whip. The Order raised her up to use her skills to survive. I think she’ll surprise you, surprise us
.”
“I hope so,” she said. “But, she’s still just a girl. She can’t fight someone with Fewn’s strength.”
“Survival isn’t all about physical strength,” he said. “You should know that.”
“Where I come from it is, along with the training to use it properly. Stealth, that another one of our strengths.”
“What about your other strength? What about that Sanzoral? You don’t talk about it much. I’ve never seen an arrow fly like that. Did you just learn to do that? You haven’t had the power of the gods that long, correct?”
“The purple light is on my mind constantly, even though I don’t speak of it much. I feel it growing stronger in me every day, it’s even consuming some days, it's all I think about, maybe that’s why I don’t speak often on the sands.”
“You ever have to practice using it? You know— to get better?”
“It’s funny, at first I couldn’t use it at all. There was even a time I was presented in front of the king and queen of Voru, with my mentor, and I failed to use it as a demonstration. That was the most embarrassed I’d ever been in my life. That feels like a lifetime ago. Now, I don’t necessarily practice it, it’s just as if— it’s growing inside of me. It’s as though it’s spreading through my blood and bones and seeping into every corner of my body and mind. If I need it, it comes. It still takes concentration, and I suppose I should practice it more though. Sometimes I think that the gods didn’t anticipate it staying in me this long, maybe they thought I’d be done with my mission and they would’ve killed me as a hero and trophy by now. Did they know it would continue to grow stronger in me all this time?”
“I don’t know if you’ll ever get an answer to that question,” Roren said. “You mentioned you had a mentor? Mind if I ask who it was?”
“No, his name was Commander Veranor of Sorock,” she said.
“Aye, that’s what I feared.”
“You’ve heard of him?”
“All in the Order know his name, though I’ve never seen him,” he said. “He’s the leader of the ones who hunts her. Over the years we’ve pondered ways to kill him, but we always knew that if he was gone, he’d just be replaced by another.” He sighed. “What’s he like?”
