by Tristan Vick
Several minutes pass before she realizes that my eyes have been fixed on her the entire time Leif has been yammering, and she smiles at me and pushes a clump of platinum hair behind her long, pointy ear. A few strands fall back across her perfectly pale skin, which she ignores, and we stare into each other’s eyes with such intensity that the rest of the world fades away until all that’s left is the rhythmic beating of our excited hearts.
Lisette’s abrupt laugh cuts through the air and breaks our trance, bringing us back into the present moment. Looking down at Alegra’s bandaged wound, I ask, “How’s the arm?”
She adjusts her cloak and looks down at the white bandages, which now have blue patches where her elven blood has soaked into them. “Sore,” she replies, rotating her arm as she measures her exact level of tenderness. She peels the wrap back slightly to get a better look and grimaces at the bite marks.
I slide next to her and, taking the bandage in my hands, say, “Here, let me do that.” After unwinding it, I reach for the Bota bag and pour some cool water over her wound to wash away the dried blood. With the edge of my own tunic, I dab the area dry. Alegra flinches from a twinge of pain and bites her bottom lip. The face she makes, the way her brow wrinkles at the bridge of her nose, and the way she bites her lip arouse me, and I blush. What’s wrong with me? Why does everything about this girl drive me out of my mind?
With a gentle touch, I wrap Alegra’s arm back up and cinch up the bandage. She gazes at me with her violet eyes and says, “Thanks.”
“My pleasure,” I reply. My heart palpitates wildly inside my chest as we stare into each other’s eyes, and for a brief moment I begin to feel so lightheaded that I fear I may pass out.
“We had better get some sleep,” Alegra finally says, breaking the lingering silence. “We have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow.”
Leif and Lisette smile at us. Lying on his side, Leif stokes the fire with a stick. There are enough embers to keep us warm for most the night.
“If it gets too cold for you,” Leif says to Lisette, “Don’t hesitate to…”
Before he can even finish the sentence Lisette climbs into the blankets with him and snuggles up against his chest like a cat. He smiles and then wraps his arms around her and rests his head next to hers.
Lisette pokes her head up, glances at Alegra and me, and then reassures us, “It’s just for warmth.” She then snuggles up with Leif again and closes her eyes. A perfect evening for her, I think. And I couldn’t be happier for her.
Alegra is setting her blankets down on the opposite side of the fire from them. I look down at my blanket, still bundled up at my feet and contemplate whether I should set my own bed or be bold enough to climb in with Alegra. What would she make of me? I don’t want her thinking I’m too bold, or that I’m simply trying t to add a notch to my belt saying I made it with an elf.
Alegra clears her throat, and I look up to see her lying before me looking like an angel. The flicker of the flame casts a warm glow that dances across her pale skin, giving me goose bumps as I study he every perfect feature. She pats the area next to her and asks, “Are you coming to bed or what?”
It takes me a second to realize that she’s invited me to share her bed with her. Fearing the invitation might expire if I idle about too long, I finally go over to her and climb into bed.
Embracing her in my arms I whisper, “So here we are.”
“So here we are,” she responds, echoing my tone of wonder coupled with deep-seated yearning to explore this fledgling relationship, wherever it may take us.
“If I’m moving too fast…” I begin, but I find myself trailing off when I catch her staring at me with the most intense gaze I’ve ever seen.
“It’s all happening a bit fast…” she says. “But I don’t think that should stop us.”
“It just feels…It feels so right. Doesn’t it?” I ask her, still having difficulty believing it myself. It feels like a dream come true, and the fact that it’s really happening, that I’ve found someone who feels the same way about me as I do her, someone who I can be open with, well, it’s all a bit much to process.
“Oh, it feels more than right,” she replies. “It feels like you’re a part of me that’s been missing from me my whole life. I know that sounds cheesy and sentimental. But that’s just how I feel.”
“I feel exactly the same way,” I reply, agreeing wholeheartedly with her description. And even though we’re merely talking, my heart races excitedly in my chest. I give her a peck on the lips and then pull back to gauge her reaction. She smiles at me and then kisses me with a deep, passionate kiss.
After the hottest, most sultry goodnight kiss that’s ever been or ever will be, we spend what seems like hours gazing into each other’s eyes and smiling and giggling till the corners of our mouths hurt. We don’t talk. We don’t need to. All we need is each other—just to hold one another other in a warm embrace and be caught up in the moment.
Neither of us wants the moment to end, but eventually my head grows weary and Alegra’s face fades in and out of focus as my vision become blurry with fatigue. I am unable to keep my chin up or my eyes open any longer, and my head sinks down onto Alegra’s arm. I feel her pull me close to her. So close, in fact, that my head nestles into her bosom and then, feeling the warmest and safest I have ever felt in my entire life, I am overtaken by a deep sleep.
23
Soaring above the viridescent canopy of the Dark Elf forest of Thananor, I recognize that I’m dreaming. Anytime I’m flying through the sky like a bird, with the wind rushing through my hair, I can tell that I’m caught up in a fantastical dream. I’ve always been a lucid dreamer, ever since I was a little girl.
I used to wake up screaming, drenched through my nightgown, because my dreams were so vividly real. Master Kel taught me how to calm my mind and take control of my dreams. He taught me how to tell the difference between what was illusory in my dream and what was the dim echoes of reality seeping in form the waking world.
With his help, I now have complete power in my dreams, which is why it’s so strange that I keep circling the same spot again and again.
Down in the dark green pines of the jagged peaks of the forest, there is an overcast area that is darker than the darkest shade. It seems to be drawing me to it and as I join the birds in a slow downward spiral, suddenly a dark smoke races up toward me.
I feel utter terror at the sight of this demonic fog. It assumes the shape of a giant clawed hand. I am unable to stop and I crash headlong into it.
The sharp tendrils of shadow clasp down on me. I feel my body being crushed under the weight of the giant hand. It no longer feels like wisps of smoke. It is strong and deadly.
Plucking me out of the sky as if I were a mere insect, its drags me to the ground. I smash into the rocky terrain with a bone-shattering crash. The wind rushes out of my lungs. It feels like I’m about to pass out from the lack of oxygen, but I don’t. For whatever reason, I manage to cling to the breath of life.
Pushing myself up off the ground, I crawl to my knees. I notice blood dripping from my mouth. I wipe my bottom lip with the back of my hand. Grunting, I stand the rest of the way up, clutching my ribcage, which feels as though it has been shattered into a thousand shards. It pains me to breathe, but I force myself to slowly inhale and exhale lest I stop breathing in my sleep as well. Always a danger for a lucid dreamer.
I scan my surroundings. The forest I was soaring over is no more. All that exists here is the charred remains of a barren wasteland. All the trees have burned up. As far as the eye can see in every direction, cinders smolder, and it rains ash. Fissures spread out across the valley, branching in every direction, like pulsing veins in the earth. They glow with an ominous red energy that seems to indicate the fading pulse of an entire planet.
In the distance, through the shimmering of the heat mirage, I see a dark figure. It’s blurred by the heat of the cracked and scorched earth. I take a step closer, the charred ground crunching
beneath my feet and turning to ash.
As I move closer still to the dark figure, the fear inside my chest builds in intensity until it’s suffocating. When I’m no more than a stone’s throw away, I can sense its burning hate, which wants to consume everything it touches. The pit of my stomach fills with complete and utter dread at the overwhelming maleficence and evil emanating from the shadowy figure.
Cautious in my approach, I look down at my feet to try and find a way to avoid stepping on anything that might snap or crunch beneath my feet. I discover it wasn’t the scorched earth and dead branches of the forest I was treading upon, but the remains of a thousand exsanguinated corpses. I place my hand over my mouth and smother a fearful gasp.
The dead corpses of Elves, dwarves, and humans litter the entire battlefield. The valley is so dense with the burned remains of deceased warriors that there’s nothing but a tangle of bent and blackened limbs jutting up from the ground.
A sudden gush of hot wind rushes over me and I lose my footing. I stumble about, shifting on fragile remains which crumble beneath me and blow away in the wind. I try not to panic, but the more I try not to do any damage the more damage is done. I feel the hair on the back of my neck prick up. I look up. Then I see them. Two black demonic eyes, blacker than the pitch blackness of a starless night, staring right at me.
My voice rattles in my throat as I expel a deathly shriek.
The demon suddenly takes the form of a beautiful elf woman with ivory skin and thin red lips. Only her eyes remain the same dark and disturbing eyes of the demon. The woman’s thin red lips spread in a wide grin, revealing fangs unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. They only add to my overall sense of dread.
Abruptly, she grabs ahold of my throat with her sharp talon-like fingers. The tips are singed black, as though she reached into the afterlife and ripped the still beating heart of Vulcanus’s chest to steal his power over death. They dig into my soft flesh and draw blood.
Clutching her wrists with both hands, I try to pry her claws from my throat. But all I can do is cry silent tears, which evaporate from my cheeks in the hot air of this hellish world.
The feeling that this is no mere illusion overwhelms me. The dream has turned real and dangerous. I no longer have control over it.
In the distance I hear awful shrieking. I realize it’s my own voice. I am screaming in the waking world, just as I am this one, as loud as my lungs will allow.
She stops smiling and her countenance grows solemn. I cling to her hand and try to pry my throat free of her grasp, but she is too strong and all I can do is choke. She watches me with an amused expression and blinks twice. Just when I think I’m about to pass out from the lack of oxygen, she whispers my name. “Arianna.”
“Nooo!” I shriek, sitting up in bed. My heart pounds inside my chest and sweat soaks through my shirt. The cold chill of early morning causes my skin to prickle. Alegra, rousing from slumber, sits up next to me. She softly strokes my back to comfort me.
“You were dreaming,” she says.
“It was more of a nightmare,” I reply, trying to catch my breath. I know my screams must have awoken her. “Sorry to wake you.”
I scramble to my feet and begin to gather my belonging.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“I have to get out of here. Away from all of you. It’s not safe. I realize that now. This undertaking, the thing I have to do, it’s too dangerous. I must do this alone.”
The terrible vision is still fresh in my mind, and now, for the first time, I realize that I’m putting other people’s lives in danger. Not the usual danger of running into some bandits in the woods, but real, serious, danger.
Wrapping my things in the blanket, I walk over to Merrium, pet her, and then tie the bundle onto the back of the saddle.
“Wait…I’ll go with you,” Alegra says.
I don’t wait though. I step into the stirrups and settle into the saddle. With a firm kick, I spur Merrium on. “Come on, girl,” I say. She trots away softly through the trees. I don’t look back. If I do, I know Alegra will be standing there, staring at me with those amethyst eyes, and I’ll be drawn back into them as if she were the lodestone to my heart. No, I must stay strong. I must ride. And keep riding until everyone I know and love is a thousand miles away.
24
I race on horseback to warn Bellera of Ashram’s attack, while wisps of white smoke rise up from the doused campfire, which quickly fades into the distance behind me. Merrium whinnies and I look over my right shoulder in time to see Leif trot up alongside me on his horse. Lisette rides with him—her arms wrapped around him. In fact, she has her arms wrapped so tightly around his torso that it’s a wonder Leif can even breathe at all.
On my right, Alegra rides up next to me and looks over at me with worried eyes.
“I thought I told you I had to do this alone.”
“An elf’s word is her bond,” she says. “Stronger than the black oak wood of Thananor, longer lasting than the eternal falls of Lanthium. I owe you a debt of life, Arianna De Amato, and I intend to repay it, no matter where it takes me.”
Leif looks at me for a long time then says what’s on his mind. “We’re in this together. Whatever has gotten you spooked, we’ll face it together. And we won’t take no for an answer.”
“And my training isn’t complete,” Lisette chimes in. “So don’t expect to be able to run off like that whenever you get spooked. I’ll trail you to the ends of the realms if that’s what it takes. You better believe that.”
“I do,” I say, scanning all their earnest faces. It warms my heart to know they care. To know they fear losing me as much as I fear losing them.
“You are a strange one, Arianna De Amato,” Leif states. Then, changing the subject, he says the unexpected. “But what I don’t get, and maybe you can help me out on this, you have the finest looking elf in all the realms throw herself at you and all you can think to do is stay up all night long talking to her.”
Lisette smothers a giggle with her hands. I look at Alegra who is staring ahead, gazing out onto the horizon, but whose ears are subtly perked up. Their tips are turning a light shade of pink and that’s how I know she’s thinking of me too.
“Yeah,” I respond to Leif’s innuendo-laden comment. “It’s called getting to know a girl, first. Maybe you should try it sometime.”
My little jibe elicits another giggle from Lisette, who looks away when Leif shoots her a betrayed look from over his shoulder.
“Do you really think I’m so callous? So uncaring?” he asks me with dramatic flair.
“When it comes to women,” I tell him, “you don’t have the first clue.”
“I’ve not had any complaints so far,” he says, thumping his chest proudly.
“Are you sure?” Alegra asks. She pulls back a bit from the group and then rides up alongside him.
Wedged between us, he does a double take and then asks, “What do you mean?”
“Women gossip,” Alegra says. “Even elf women are not immune to the trivialities of scuttlebutt and skinder.”
Leif is at a loss. “Of what?”
“The exchange of juicy details in the confidence of other women,” Lisette chimes in.
“Well, I’m sure it’s nothing bad,” he reassures us with a hefty dose of confidence. He shoots me a wink to let me know he’s not simply bluffing about his skills as a womanizer.
“Answer me this,” Lisette says in a rather serious tone. “Has there ever been anyone? Someone you truly cared about?”
Leif’s face grows cold and his posture grows rigid as he gazes out at the rippling wild grasses and rolling hills which define the Belleran landscape. “Once. A long time ago,” he answers. But his voice is low and solemn, and Lisette, being the thoughtful young woman she is, doesn’t press the matter any further.
“What’s that?” Alegra asks. And suddenly all our attention is diverted to the sight ahead of us.
The Queen’s guard is out in forc
e, and a large woman, fully armored, flags us down. She points toward a tent where there’s a checkpoint set up and gestures for us to head over.
The checkpoint consists of five knights and two clerks convened around a small tent. One of the knights approaches us and raises her hand, signaling for us to come to a stop.
Slowing to a halt, I give the Belleran greeting common to my people. “Greetings, sisters of the Goddess. May the sun brighten your day and that of blessed Bellera.”
“You are Belleran?” the knight asks, somewhat surprised to find a fellow countrywoman riding with a ragtag group that includes a Gaul, an elf, and a petite girl wearing clothes that would make even the wealthiest princess envious.
“We hasten to Bellera with an urgent message for Queen Sabine,” I inform her.
“A message from whom?” the woman asks tersely as she eyeballs my friends suspiciously.
“From Galen, head of the Monks of Sabolin and caretaker of the sacred scrolls of Valandra.”
“What’s a checkpoint doing so far away from the city?” asks Lisette. She speaks my thoughts.
The knight looks a bit flustered, then after hesitating a bit, she begrudgingly answers, “Rumor is that Koroth has sent a fleet of soldiers to Valandra Prime at the behest of Lord Dathrium. He is amassing a large army, but we do not know the reasons why.”
“Then maybe we can help,” Lisette says.
The knight raises an eyebrow.
“The nature of our news concerns this very topic, I’m afraid. Lord Dathrium has declared war on Sabolin.”
“Is this true?” the knight asks me in a state of shock.
“I’m afraid it’s much worse than that,” I answer. “Dathrium has burned the temple of the monks and toppled the scared obelisk.”
“By the Goddess!” the knight gasps. “What of the survivors?”
