by Logan Petty
“No! NOOOOO! Not you, Tobi! Not you!”
His mind ran through the thoughts his grieving tongue could not form.
You were my best friend. You were the first real friend I have ever had. Everyone else either saw me as a thrall or a shieldling. I even had to fight for Kyra’s attention. You were always there for me. You can’t be dead, you still have to prove to the world your greatness. This can’t be happening. I believed in you, Tobi. You were going to be a hero. I just know it. It can’t already be over. It just can’t be.
Sawain wept bitterly for hours. By the time his mind finally began to cope with reality, his tongue was parched and clung helplessly to his dry throat. He could not cry anymore. There were no tears left. He just sat in front of Tobi with his broken leg outstretched. He stared at Tobi’s lifeless face. He was so pale, but he looked like he was sleeping. Sawain prayed many times that he would just wake up. He never did.
Naralei eventually approached Sawain and offered him a water skin. He did not want it, but some of his reason did return to him and he knew that he needed it. He accepted it and drank deeply from its contents. The water was sweeter than normal water. It must have come from the pool he sat beside now. He handed the half empty skin back to Naralei.
“Thanks.”
Naralei took it and sighed, “I know you two were close, but please don’t forget about your living friends. We need a leader right now, Sawain. We are at war. We all want revenge for Tobi, but we can’t get it here. We can’t get it until you are better. If we don’t act soon, we’ll all die out here. You need to pull yourself together. Loraleth can see you breaking down and it’s not helping her at all.”
Sawain inhaled deeply to clear his runny nose, “I understand that. I know I’m supposed to be a leader, but how can I be one when this sort of thing happens to everyone who puts their faith in me? Tobi is my best friend, but he’s not the first one I lost who trusted me. I just don’t think I’m going to be able to do this. I’m just a thrallborn. I grew up on a farm. I’m no warrior, no great leader, no great hero. I’m just a crippled failure.”
Naralei sat down beside Sawain. She did not look at him, she merely stared at Tobi’s motionless face.
“You don’t really believe that, do you? Tobi did not die because you are a bad leader. Tobi died because you are a great leader. People don’t die for someone they don’t believe in. Tobi gave his life in battle because he cut that Bjornhund and its rider off from getting to you. They were going to flank you and you would have died for sure. Tobi stepped between you and death so that you could do what no one else can: Stop the Grey King. He would be so disappointed if he could see you now.”
Sawain sniffed again and stared at Tobi’s corpse. He was taken aback by what Naralei said. He never thought that way about those who died under his command before. He smiled genuinely.
“I guess Tobi did prove himself to be a hero, after all. Thank you, my friend.”
Tears ran down Naralei’s cheeks when she looked at Sawain. She smiled too.
“I guess he did. You need to go talk to Loraleth. She really needs a morale boost.”
Sawain closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had to push his own feelings down and remember the rest of the team. He nodded at Naralei.
“Right. Will you help me up? My leg’s a little sore.”
She snorted, “Sure. Come on.”
Naralei stood up and bent over to help Sawain to his feet. It was a slow and painful process, but they managed it all the same. They limped over to the edge of the grove where Loraleth sat. She had her back against an old oak and held her knees close to her chest. Blood-soaked rags were wrapped around her wounded shoulder. It looked badly misshapen. That arm dangled uselessly by her side. She made no acknowledgment of either comrade as they approached her or sat down beside her. She stared forward, eyes locked on Tobi’s grave.
Sawain tried to think of something to say to her to get her to revive. Nothing came to him. He did not really know how to handle near death experiences, and this was at least his fourth one.
“Are you alright, Lora?”
She did not answer him. He sighed and thought harder to find words of comfort.
“We all miss Tobi. Me, especially. He was a great friend and a courageous hero. It’s hard for us all, but we have to get moving again. Tobi would—”
“I’m not going with you, Sawain.”
Sawain looked at her and blinked with shock, “What do you mean?”
Loraleth took a deep breath and slowly let it out, “I’m afraid. I’m too afraid. I don’t want to die, like Tobi. I’m sorry, Sawain. I’m just not ready to give my life, especially for a war that does not concern us.”
Sawain scowled at her. Indignation boiled in his belly.
“Does not concern us? How does it not concern us? The undead are running amok in the Forest, razing villages to the ground, killing our friends and family. Please tell me how it doesn’t concern us, Loraleth.”
Loraleth closed her eyes to hold back tears, “I mean, you brought this war to our doorstep. If you had never come to Alfhaven, no one would have had to die. My arm is useless now. I’m good as dead if I stay with you. I’m going back to the city and I’m taking Tobi’s body with me.”
Sawain grit his teeth in anger, “You really believe that? You think it’s one person’s actions that led them here? Loraleth, you’re talking like a fool! The Grey King’s army is larger and more numerous than anything our world has seen before, and it grows with every murder his minions commit. This forest is full of life. They did not follow me here, I simply got here at roughly the same time. This war is unavoidable, and Alfhaven is feeling that truth now more than ever.”
Loraleth did not respond. She simply sat there and stared into the darkness. Sawain continued with his speech.
“You can go back, Loraleth. No one is stopping you. You can desert your team in their hour of need and be branded a coward by your people. You can let me down. You will live, but can you really live with what you’ve done? What will you do when the Grey King’s risen army besieges Alfhaven City? When everything is ablaze and death surrounds you, when you have no choice but to face the end, you will die alone. Cowards always die alone. That will be your fate if you walk away today. Naralei, help me up. I’m tired of sitting here. We have places to be.”
Naralei looked at Sawain in shock and disbelief. She glanced at Loraleth, who did not try to hold back the tears. She rose to her feet and roughly pulled Sawain to his. Pain shot through his body like thousands of tiny knives that pierced every joint. He grit his teeth and tried to hide the excruciating pain. They limped over to Mari, Timbrel, Banthan, and Jatharr. They all looked to Sawain with nervous expressions. Sawain surmised that they overheard his talk with Loraleth.
“Alright, Ghosts, We’re bloodied, battered, and broken, but not beaten. We’ve been sitting around for too long. We have to get to Bitterdeep Bog and find Sibilach. She’s my only hope for restoration. She’s also the key to avenging Tobi. Get your things together, we’re moving out.”
Mari glanced at Tobi’s grave, “But, what about Tobi? We can’t just leave him here. We can’t let them turn him into a monster!”
Sawain nodded, “I know, Mari. Loraleth has elected to take him back to Alfhaven, but I don’t think that is what he would want. Before we leave, we are going to give him a pyre worthy of a true hero.”
Banthan cocked an eyebrow skeptically, “A pyre?”
Jatharr nodded sagely, “It’s a tradition common in Grosgur Fells. We build a great wooden platform for fallen heroes and ignite them. It releases their spirits from their worldly duties and also prevents their bodies from being misused or desecrated by necromancers. It is a great honor to have a Pyre built in your name.”
The elves in the group looked at one another, unsure of this outlandish tradition. Sawain sensed their uncertainty.
“Tobi deserves this. He died a hero. Whether you like it or not, we are doing it. It also ensures that
his body won’t fall into the Grey King’s hands, so what is there to argue?”
A moment of silence passed before the others agreed. They spent the next hour building a suitable pyre, under Jatharr’s more knowledgeable guidance. Sawain could not do much to help, but he did sit down beside Tobi and removed the rock pile from around his body. Sawain finally got to see the gruesome wounds that took his friend from him. He wished he had not seen them.
The Ghosts of Alfhaven lifted Tobi’s body onto the ship-like pyre that they constructed from old sticks and dead branches from the forest floor. They gathered around it in a circle. Sawain leaned against Naralei at the head of the pyre. Jatharr handed Sawain a lit torch.
“I think it’s best if you led the ceremony, Deathsbane.”
Sawain nodded and took the torch. He held it over Tobi’s head. The light-sensitive elves squinted in pain from the intense flare. Sawain looked at Tobi’s peaceful face. He remembered that the old clerics at the important pyres would always give long, drawn out speeches about the dead hero, glorifying everything they ever did in life, even if it meant embellishing things. Sawain did not need embellishment. He thought for a moment to find the words he wanted to use.
“Tobi, we send your spirit off to worlds unknown, but before you go, I want to tell you something. I want you to know that you are a hero. Not because you slayed a monster or saved our hides so many times. Not even because you gave your life to save mine. Tobi, you’re my hero because you were my first real friend, and because of that, I will never forget you. Wherever your spirit goes, I hope you find rest and peace in your next home. Farewell, my friend.”
Sawain thrust the torch into the pyre amidst the sniffles of the onlookers. He watched the flames quickly spread and envelop Tobi’s body. Soon, the blaze was so intense that everyone had to step away. Sawain heard the sobs of the others as the pyre collapsed in the heat.
He blinked the tears out of his eyes. He was not sure if it was delirium or fatigue, or just the shadows of night, but for a short moment, Sawain thought he saw Tobi standing in the flames, smiling and waving at him. Whether he actually saw it or not, he returned the smile and waved back.
Chapter 15
Darkness reigned once more in the druid’s grove. Tobi’s funeral pyre was nothing more than warm ashes. The Ghosts took one more night to recover before they finally broke camp.
Banthan never left Loraleth’s side all night. Sawain, who could not sleep anyway, listened to his whispered begging.
“Come on, sis. Don’t do this. We need you. I need you. You were always the braver one. This isn’t like you at all… Please don’t give up on me.”
For hours, Banthan tried to reach his sibling, but Loraleth never spoke a word to him. The night passed and Sawain could no longer tolerate lying around. He called out to the team.
“Alright, Ghosts, It’s time to move again. We’ve wasted too much time already. Let’s get going!”
Sawain was unable to stand on his own, much less walk or climb. The others fashioned a crutch from a stout piece of wood so that he could support himself without using his broken leg. The most tedious part of the exodus was getting Sawain into the upper tangle. It took Jatharr, Banthan, and Naralei to pull him up via a makeshift pulley system of twine rope.
Sawain was relieved to be back in the trees again. He was uncomfortable on the ground, and the trip back into the sheltering boughs nearly took its toll on him. He glanced nervously at the narrow branches that made the interwoven network of highways they used to travel through the forest.
“Nara, are you sure this is going to work? I mean, I don’t know if I can keep balanced with a crutch on these limbs, and what about jumping to other limbs? I definitely can’t jump like this.”
Naralei did not even look at him, “Then don’t jump. I’m sure you can manage.”
The cold tone of her voice caused Sawain’s scalp to prickle. He was certain that she was mad at him. He glanced down at Loraleth, who was still huddled against the same tree she was at earlier. Sawain sighed. He wished that he had chosen kinder words when he talked to her earlier. In the back of his mind, he blamed himself for her desire to depart. He wanted to try one last time. He wanted to say something to her. He wanted to go down and sit by her until she felt better, so that everyone would stay together. He simply did not have time for that.
“Loraleth.”
Loraleth jumped slightly when she heard Sawain call her name, but she did not look up.
“Loraleth, It’s not too late to come with us. I’m sorry for my harsh words earlier. You can still redeem yourself. I know that you are not a coward. I have faith in you.”
Loraleth still did not look at him, “Like you had faith in Tobi?”
Everyone was silent. Her words cut through Sawain like the sword that cut through his leg. It took him a moment to collect himself before he spoke again. His tone was calm and his voice was steady.
“You will always have a place in the Outriders. We won’t be moving fast. You can catch up with us at any time, once you come to your senses.”
Loraleth did not move. Sawain waited a moment, let out a quiet sigh, then turned to the other outriders. Their faces were as somber as his heart. He raised his free hand.
Everyone, even Jatharr, nodded. Sawain was glad the Captain had at least a rudimentary knowledge of their language now. They limped through the treetops in the direction Loraleth marked when they stopped in the grove. The pace was slow and the path was treacherous. Sawain struggled to keep his crutch from slipping off of the mossy branches.
This slow progress ate at Sawain’s patience. They spent two hours on the move and covered the same amount of ground they could have in ten minutes if they were in better condition. It aggravated Sawain immensely. He held his tongue, but his temper grew with each passing hour. Mari offered to let Sawain lean on her, but Sawain’s pride was wounded as it was and he tried to make it on his own for as long as he could.
They wove their way through the dark forest for days. Sawain’s leg would not allow them to move quickly. They were in no condition to fight and were in Tribal territory. The constant fear of discovery lingered amongst them.
They spent half a day at one point hidden in a dead tree when a dark elf hunting party picked up their trail. The only thing that saved them from discovery was a song of forgetfulness from Mari and Timbrel. Though they forgot what they were looking for, it took the tribals a few hours to give up on the actual hunt.
Banthan was virtually useless now. He moved listlessly. He kept a closer watch on where they had been than on where they were going. Sawain was irritable as it was, but he tried to show Banthan some compassion and not yell at him as much. His leg got worse every day and the sojourn became harder with his clumsy brace in tow.
He slipped on a thin bough and nearly fell from the treetops. He caught the branch, but the crutch fell to the forest floor with a splash. He growled menacingly as he tried to pull himself up. Naralei was at his side in an instant.
She grabbed him under his arms and hoisted him up to the branch. He sat and dangled his legs over the edge of his seat. He grit his teeth until the stabbing pain in his fractured leg subsided enough to be bearable. Naralei offered a hand. Sawain did not take it. She glared at him.
“What, now you don’t want my help, either?”
Sawain shot her a sideways glare, “ You’re mad at me about Loraleth, but that was her call, not mine. I tried to set things right, so lose the attitude and start acting like a ranger.”
Naralei’s expression turned to one of hurt. She snorted and stormed away from Sawain. He just sat there, and stared at the dark, flat ground below him. There was something strange about it. Light danced around on the wet sheen it produced. The light was familiar to Sawain. He looked up and noticed thin rays of sunlight were able to penetrate the Alfhaven canopy. The trees here were thinner, more spread out.
Mari and Timbrel appeared at Sawain’s side. Mari
placed her hands on her hips and smiled at him.
“You look like you could use a hand, boss. Or, maybe… a foot? Ha! Get it?”
She offered Sawain her hand. He looked at her skeptically before he finally gave in and accepted it. She pulled him to his feet and braced him under his right arm with her shoulder. Sawain furrowed his brow.
“You know, I think it’s too soon to be cracking leg jokes, Mari.”
She chuckled as they limped along, “Aww, I’m sorry, boss. I know you’re still sore about it. Maybe it’s something you should just leg go! Ah ha ha ha ha!”
Sawain could not help but smile at Mari’s happy, yet gruesome nature, “Come on, Mari. Give me a break!”
Mari chortled, “You made a joke! I’m so ec-Thigh-ted! Ha ha ha ha ha!”
Sawain laughed at Mari’s pun. Her jokes were finally growing on him. He waited a moment then looked around.
“Mari, you notice anything strange about this place?”
She nodded and looked up at the canopy, “Yeah, I do. It’s a lot brighter here, and it stinks.”
Somehow Sawain did not notice the smell until now. She was right. The air smelled like rotting vegetation and corpses. He guessed his own bloody leg rendered his sense of smell weak. He nodded.
“You’re right. Smells pretty foul. Look at the ground, too. When I dropped my stick, it hit the ground with a splash. I think we’ve found Bitterdeep Bog.”
Mari looked awe struck as she stared at the ground, “Whoa, you’re right. It’s all wet and slimy. Hey, guys! We’re in Bitterdeep Bog!”
Naralei shot Mari a stern look, “We know, Mari. Keep it down. We don’t need to be attacked by something!”
Mari stuck out her tongue and wrinkled her nose at Naralei, “Aww go jump in the bog, you nasty old toad. We can see a lot farther here. There’s nothing around us. Just trees and swamp.”
