by Heath Pfaff
"Usually, those storms stayed far out to sea, and my people never encountered them, but sometimes one would roll over land, and they always wrought massive damage when they did. In the center of the storm, near the calm center, there is a strange type of lightening that he called a red streak. He told me that a red streak will pierce a hole right through a home, or even through a stone wall, and leave a giant crater on the other side. Once, when he was a young boy living in a fishing village, he witnessed a man getting struck by a red streak. There was nothing left of him. His bones and flesh were turned immediately to dust, and a crater was left where he'd been standing that was large enough to fit a grown man so deep that he couldn't reach the surface." Telistera looked a little embarrassed. "It's just an old story my father told me, but this storm has been going on so long, it brings back memories. I'm sure he was just trying to keep me from going outside in the rain."
"Then there is nothing to worry about. We'll come out of this storm soon enough." I said, forcing a smile and trying to sound encouraging. Stories such as Telistera had been told by her father, generally had some source of origin. It was possible that red streaks and monstrous storms such as those mentioned by her father were just another case of mundane events blown out of proportion through many retellings. It was also possible that, like the legends of the great sea monsters, there was some truth to be found in Telistera's story.
She nodded. "I know. I'll go get a crew together to bring down the sails." She seemed to relax a little. Sharing ones fears could go a long way towards easing them, I had notice. She departed, and Liet followed in her wake, obviously intent upon helping her with her task. Apparently, he saw no need to finish the conversation we'd started. Perhaps it was for the better.
I stood in the hallway alone for a moment. Red streaks. The storm raged on beyond the confines of the ship. I felt ill at ease.
Malice had departed to the commons to have a meal, and I sat alone in our room, pining over a stack of paper that I was considering turning into a memoir. So much had happened to me since I'd joined the Knights, and I had always told myself that I would record it all at some point. My training as a keeper of records, a scribe, had left me with a strong sense of duty in regards to maintaining historical documentation. As I sat down at my desk and picked up the quill to write, the ship surged heavily beneath me, and the capped bottle of ink rolled off of the desk and onto the floor. Perhaps it was a sign that I should hold off writing until later. It had been a week since Telistera's story of the red streaks, and still our ship was embroiled in the surging of the storm. Our situation had gotten no better. If anything, the storm was growing yet fiercer.
Telistera assured me that we were not loosing much travel time, since the storm was actually pushing us in the right direction, but I did not like the feeling of floating at the whim of such a squall. I put down the quill I'd only so recently picked up. It wasn't time to write. Not then. I knew, though, that I would have to start soon. There was no one else who could tell the story that I had lived. Too many events had happened that bore no other witness than myself and a number of dead friends who could bear no witness at all. Who would speak for those who had died? Who would remember their bravery if someone did not make a note?
I got up from my desk, recovered the ink well, and returned it to its drawer where it would be safe until the storm blew over. It was foolish to even consider starting such a task while the ship still rocked and surged to the whim of the angry storm outside. A knock sounded at my door, hesitant, quiet. I had not heard anyone approach, but the sounds of the weather outside were loud enough to hide quiet footsteps. I grabbed my sword from where it lay at the side of my bed.
"It's open." I called. Malice would have entered without knocking, a friend would not find it strange to be given entrance in such a way, and a threat would be at a disadvantage, coming into a room that they did not know the layout of, plus they would have to manipulate the door and whatever weapon they were going to use. All of these considerations passed through my mind as I readied to greet whoever lay outside. I was almost surprised at just how paranoid I had become.
The handle turned, and the door swung open revealing the impossible to mistake outline of Tower. The massive Knight of Ethan had to duck to enter the room. He wore his hood down. His hair was long, light brown, and hung loosely bound down his back in two separate tied bunches. Stray strands hung about his face, almost hiding his eyes as he bowed his head upon entering. His face had a coating of very light stubble, and his jaw line was firm and strong, despite his obvious shyness. He had an almost feminine cast to his features, a grace uncommon among men. It was a face women could fall in love with, if they looked long enough after seeing his imposing frame headed in their direction.
"Tower," I greeted him, tossing my sword to the bed. It was obvious he hadn't come to do me harm. "What brings you here?"
He hesitated, opening his mouth, and then closing it again, as though he knew what he wanted to say, but couldn't force the words free. I waited. I didn't know what it was like to be as shy as Tower was, but I could see that he struggled with social interactions and I wasn't going to chide him for that.
"I wish to speak to you regarding Snow." He said, finally ringing the words out. They came out quietly, but spoken with a solemn intent that I couldn't help but take notice of. My curiosity was peaked. What he could have to tell me about Snow that I didn't already know, was beyond me.
I held my hand out and offered him a seat on the bed. He took the offered seat, and I sat down in my desk chair. Even sitting, Tower was still tall and imposing without meaning to be. The boat heaved in the sea, and I had to stop myself from sliding across the floor in my chair by grabbing the corner of the desk.
"Speak your mind, Tower. I'll always hear you out." I readied myself for whatever news might come next. Tower, I knew, wouldn't come to me lightly.
"Sir, King Noble, I need. . . I wish. . . I would like to know what your intentions are in regards to Snow, King Noble." Tower asked, his request coming out haltingly, and with far too many formal addresses. Of all that he may have asked me or told me, those words were perhaps the last I'd expected to hear. What were my intentions regarding Snow? That was a good question. She had been a dear friend, and a lover, but I wasn't sure where I stood with her any longer. I couldn't look at her without seeing betrayal. Was Tower asking for his own benefit? Did he have some interest in Snow beyond the professional? A pang of jealousy struck for a moment at that thought, but I pushed it away. Snow was not mine, and never had been. That had always been understood. I did not love her, at least not as I did Malice. Since her betrayal, I wasn't even sure if she was still a friend.
"Why do you ask, Tower?" My curiosity got the better of me.
"Sir, I . . . she is . . . what I mean, is that she's very nice. Er, what I want to say is that, if you do not want her. . . No, I mean, if. . ." Tower stopped, he looked frustrated. His fists were bunched closed, but I did not want to stop him. He opened his hands, apparently a conscious effort, and took a few deep breaths. "King Noble, I think I love her." He said, the words coming out in a burst, almost knocking into each other on their way out of his mouth.
I stifled the smile that wanted to come to my lips. He had tried too hard to get those words out for me to squash them by taking him lightly. Tower was serious, so I would treat the situation with the respect that it was due. There were times for levity, but matters of the heart, I knew, should be handled with caution and seriousness. Tower still needed his answer.
"I have no claim on Snow, Tower. No man has. If you love her as you say you do, you are free to pursue her until she indicates otherwise." I told the young Knight, and for the first time since entering he lifted his head, his hair falling back from his eyes. It is often said that we Knights of Ethan have eyes that are black and soulless, lacking the emotional connection of human eyes, or even the lively color of the Uliona, from who we steal our vision, but in that moment there was no denying the joy behind th
e two black mirrors to Tower's inner self.
"Tower," I added, locking eyes with the young Knight. "If you wish to pursue her, you must know that she is strong and independent. She's not going to be caged, and you'll have to be bold to attract her notice. She holds herself, and others, to a high standard." In all the time I had spent with Snow, those few truths were what I had taken away from her. I once would have added that she was loyal and trustworthy as well. I would no longer give her such credits. Perhaps to others those titles would hold true, in my case, she had been neither.
"Caging such a bird would be a crime, Sir." Tower replied, looking bashful as he said the words, as if realizing only half-way through his speech that what he was saying was about as un-Knightly as possible.
This time I did smile, though it was not a mocking expression. "Indeed it would be, Tower."
Tower departed as quietly as he'd come. I wondered what Snow would make of the young man's approaches. I hoped that she would take him as seriously as he took himself. It would be far too easy to hurt the young and shy Knight. Even if Snow wasn't interested in him, she would need to be careful otherwise he might withdraw further than he already had. It was not, however, my place to meddle in their affairs. Bringing the matter to Snow would only serve to humiliate Tower. He would have to do things in his own time, and in his own way.
Sometime later, the door opened, and Malice stepped back into the dimly lit interior of the room. She wore her shifting cloak, and beneath it a full set of light armor. Her hair was tied back, though not as severely as she had tied it back before her memory loss. Still, she looked much as she had when I'd first met her. The illusion was somewhat marred by the partial smile that always seemed to rest on her features, a change, I thought, that was for the better. Malice's honest smiles had been too few and far between back in those early days.
"I passed Tower on my way here." Laouna said, pausing to see if I would have anything to add. When I said nothing, she continued. "He seemed a little flustered."
"Did he?" I asked, feigning ignorance, more for a spot of fun than for any intent to hide the truth.
Laouna walked across the room and cuffed me lightly on the shoulder. "There are only two rooms down this hall, and I passed him just before he reached Snow's door."
"So he passed Snow's door?" I asked, honestly curious. I had wondered whether he would go directly to her, to make his feelings clear, of if he intended to wait. It had obviously taken him considerable effort just to confront me on the matter.
Malice cocked her head to one side. "Yes, why?" She pressed, her curiosity as tenacious as my own. I snaked out my arm, grabbed Laouna by the shoulder and pulled her down into my lap. She fell with little protest, wrapping her left arm about my shoulders she landed.
"I'll tell you this because I love you, and for no other reason. I'm sure Tower would appreciate this information gets no further." I told Laouna, my face just inches from hers.
She smiled, leaned forward and kissed me. "No one will hear a thing from me." The green-eyed beauty assured me, and I was helpless to keep anything away from her in that moment. My heart fell into her eyes, and I would have given her every secret the world possessed, if I'd had them to give.
"Tower is in love with Snow." I said, before explaining the conversation I'd had with the love-struck Knight.
To my surprise, Laouna laughed. "I already knew that Tower had feelings for Snow. There are few who have seen him when he's around her that do not know that already."
I raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
Laouna laughed again, put both her arms around me, and kissed me once more, her lips soft and welcoming against mine. "You need to pay more attention to the things that are happening aboard ship." She chided.
"I suppose I do." I answered, feeling a bit foolish. I supposed keeping things a secret was a moot point.
A cloud seemed to pass over Malice's face, and her smile faded.
"I had a strange dream last night, Lowin." She said softly. "I didn't remember it when I woke up, but while I was eating supper, it started to come back to me."
She'd been having more and more dreams since returning to my room. Sometimes they were just nightmares of the hungering, but other times they contained pieces of the memories she had lost. I often had to wake her from vicious nightmares that left her thrashing about in the bed as though she were being physically assailed. Once awake, usually the dreams would fade in a matter of minutes, and she would return to sleep, passing the remainder of the night in peace. I rarely slept, and so I lay as silent witness to her torments.
"What did you dream of this time?" I encouraged her to talk to me. I always hoped that she might recover more of what she'd lost.
"I was in a dark place, and I couldn't see anything. I heard someone crying, so I tried to move towards the sound, but no matter how close I came, the sound moved further away. I began to panic, and run, because the person crying sounded like they needed help, but I couldn't get to them. Suddenly there were lights everywhere, torches, and I could see.
"I was in a cave, and there was a little girl in a cage. She looked like you, Lowin, but her eyes were human, yet they were so purple that she couldn't have been human. When she saw me she called out my old name, Malice. I tried to run to her, but all these hands grabbed me and held me, powerful hands with claws, driven by burning red eyes. I tried to break free from them, but I couldn't. The little girl in the cage was carried away and I could do nothing to stop it. She disappeared, and the light went away." Malice delivered her story in a flat tone, but tears seeped from her eyes. I lifted my hand and wiped them from her cheek.
She seemed surprised. She reached up and wiped the tears away as well, she smiled, an expression that seemed odd through the tears. "I don't know why I'm crying." She tried to explain, and laughed weakly. I wrapped my arm back around her and squeezed her tight to me.
"You've just remembered Kaylien." I told her, feeling a lump in my throat as I said my daughter's name. "You've just remembered the person that we're making this journey for."
Malice's smile faltered once more, replaced by a look of frustration. "Why can't I remember everything, Lowin? Every time I see that little girls face, my heart hurts, but I don't remember anything more about her. What is wrong with me? Why did I forget so much?"
I kissed Laouna's cheek. It was warm, and the salt of her tears flavored her soft skin. "I don't know the answer to those questions. All I know is that I love you, and we'll be together whether you remember what has happened in the past or not."
Laouna tucked her head into my shoulder. "Will you tell me about her, Lowin? Would you tell me about Kay, and about Malice . . . I mean, me, before all of this?"
I nodded. "I'll tell you anything you want to know." I began the telling of the story of Malice, to the woman that had been Malice.
The entire world exploded. I was in the commons with Malice, nursing a glass of fresh water, when suddenly the ship jolted so sharply that I, and the few other crew members in the room, were tossed into the air. We'd grown use to the rigorous shifting caused by the monstrous swells of the storm raging above, but never had the boat been so powerfully struck. My body reacted on impulse slowing the world about me, so that I was able to stop myself from striking the low ceiling of the commons. I was still hard pressed to get my legs back under me before the ground surged up to meet me again. As soon as my feet touched the floor, I sprung for Malice.
She was laying flat on the ground, a trail of blood trickling from her brow line. My heart jolted in panic.
"Malice?" I called her name as I ran my fingers down the side of her face. Her eyes fluttered open, she blinked, and I saw her gaze focus on me. Her green eyes were surprised, but sharp and clear. I breathed a sigh of relief.
"What happened?" She asked, sitting up, and holding her hand to her head.
I held a hand out to her, helping her to her feet. "I don't know." I answered. The ship listed heavily to one side, and I had to grab on to the nearest table
to keep from tumbling over. I waited for the angle of the ship to right itself, but it didn't happen. The wood hull groaned.
The others in the room were pulling themselves from the floor with the aid of anything that was bolted down. Tower and Silver were there, as were a few of the human crew, including Captain. I looked at the oldest of our human sailors, searching for some indication that he knew what was going on. His face looked grim. A moment later, a loud ringing sounded from above decks. It was one of two bells located onboard ship. One bell was to be rung in the event of an attack. The other was only to be rung when it was time to abandon ship. It was that second bell that I heard ringing. I'd only ever heard it one other time, and that was when it was first shown to the crew. I didn't know who was ringing the bell, or why, but I knew that matters must be serious.
"All hands to life rafts!" Captain called out, doing what I should have done as soon as I heard the bell.
Malice, Tower, and Silver all looked at me, as if needing my command before following any other order. I nodded once, and we moved as a group. We let the few humans go before us, though it was a difficult process, since the ship was still tilted at an unusual angle. A loud rumble rattled through the wood of the ship as the deck suddenly jolted beneath our feet again. It wasn't as severe the second time, but there was no denying the amount of force that must have exploded against the hull to make such a terrible pressure.
A human sailor fell, and went tumbling down across the deck back towards the bolted down tables and chairs of the dining area. I caught him as he fell past me. It was only as he rolled down the slanting floor that I realized that the list of ship was growing worse. The man's eyes were full of panic as they met mine. I lifted him, and set him back on his feet, making sure he had good hold on the ship again before I let him go.
