by DM Fike
Something clicked inside Isolde’s brain. “He was your Guardian. What happens now with him gone?”
Avalon waved her hands dismissively, summoning up false bravado to keep from breaking down. “That’s Shivant’s theory, not mine. I’m not really a Child of the Statue. The only thing that matters is stopping Scawale.”
Isolde nodded, resuming their journey. “Which is why going to the Temple of the Heavens is so important. Sir Marcus would agree.”
Focusing on Kay shifted Avalon’s sadness to something more bearable, although still tender.
Ten minutes later, Isolde ground to a halt. Avalon pulled up beside her. They stood in a wide spot in the road, nothing particularly noteworthy. She glanced uneasily into the dark woods. “Something wrong?”
Isolde pointed to a U-shaped grove of trees to the side of the road. “That’s the inn”
Avalon blinked. “What are you talking about? Nothing’s there.”
Isolde took a few steps off the road and crouched on her haunches. “Look down.”
Avalon followed her gaze, finding Isolde standing in a huge rectangular dirt patch. It appeared recently constructed, Isolde’s boots kicking up clouds as she walked over it.
Isolde placed her palm on the dirt. “The inn’s foundation used to be here.”
“Maybe they tore it down?”
“Maybe,” Isolde said, but she didn’t sound convinced.
As Isolde continued to examine the inn’s former location, Avalon’s eyelids grew impossibly heavy. “I need to sleep soon, or you’ll have to carry me the rest of the way.”
Isolde frowned down at the ground. “I wish I knew what happened here.”
Avalon walked behind some bushes where they could sleep undetected away from the road. “You said Lumport’s not far away. You could ask them about it in the morning.”
“I suppose,” Isolde finally conceded. She helped Avalon spread out a few blankets on the wet grass. With dawn only hours away, they decided not to light a fire, layering spare clothing over themselves for added warmth as they attempted to settle down for a quick nap. Avalon was so tired, she didn’t even remember laying down to fall asleep, absolute weariness taking over all her senses.
* * *
Avalon awoke from a surprisingly restful sleep to a bright, cold sky. Dawn had come and gone, morning clearly taking the reins from night. She found Isolde crouching on all fours in the patch of dirt where the inn had stood, hands and knees covered in a thin layer of dust, although her boots remained as pristine as ever. Avalon recognized her furrowed brows and scrunched up face, the same expression that poured over library books.
“Find anything interesting?” Avalon called out to her.
“Nay,” she admitted. “Just thinking about something. This seems familiar to me somehow, but I can’t pinpoint it.”
Avalon considered continuing the conversation but thought better of it. That face also meant Isolde had taken a single-track mind to one topic, and she could drone on about it forever. Instead, Avalon noted her growling stomach. “You got anything to eat?”
Isolde produced a canteen of water and a few bites of Vernal’s dried fruit from the night before. They ate as they packed up the blankets. Avalon took the heavy pack as they set off for Lumport.
Avalon could feel the shift in the atmosphere as they approached the coastal town. The taste of salt lingered in the air. The trees bent slightly toward the direction they were traveling, an indication of stronger ocean winds. Before long, sand lined the cracks of dirt in the road, and then small sand dunes dotted the rolling hills around them.
But something felt missing. As the minutes turned into an hour, Avalon finally realized what it was.
“Seagulls,” she announced to the brooding Isolde.
Isolde snapped out of her reverie. “Excuse me?”
“There are no seagulls here, even though we’re approaching the beach. Isn’t that odd? I’ve seen them on every other beach on Llenwald.”
Isolde scrutinized the air, eyes darting in every direction. “It is rather strange. Not only that, but we’ve yet to encounter anyone traveling this way. It’s a rural area, but I still generally encounter at least a person or two during this stretch of road.” Her voice dipped ominously. “Something’s not right.”
Avalon adjusted the pack on her shoulders. “You have any weapons in here?”
Isolde shook her head. “I only borrowed some spare supplies no one would miss.”
They rounded a corner onto a flat stretch of road. Isolde pointed up the road, which curved around a sand dune out of sight. “Lumport’s on the other side.”
Avalon held her breath as they climbed the final summit before viewing the small town of Lumport. Given Isolde’s brief description of it, she expected modest houses, maybe one general store nestled along the shoreline. She hoped for friendly inhabitants. She prayed she would not need a weapon.
She did not expect to find a flattened beach.
If Avalon hadn’t known a town had once been here in the rolling hills leading to the water’s edge, she would have never guessed it. Rectangular patches dotted the ground, several with dirt paths snaking out from the main road. The trees and sand dunes created a natural barrier on either side of the little alcove, but not a single house stood erect anywhere, not a person in sight. It looked as if a construction crew had bulldozed the area then left before building anything.
“Is this Lumport?” Avalon whispered.
Isolde paled, hands shaking at her throat. “It was.” She burst forward, running down the main slope toward the nearest patch of exposed land. She knelt down next to it, both palms pushing into the soil.
“It looks just like the inn,” Avalon observed.
Isolde closed her eyes. Small tremors rippled underneath their feet. The elf was searching for something.
After a few seconds, Isolde’s eyes shot back open. “I knew it seemed familiar! I saw this on Kryvalen’s Island when I was studying earth dragons. The males would destroy the nests of rival dragons encroaching on their territory. They would use their earth magic to bury the nest, always leaving the perfect outline of the nest aboveground.” Isolde scrunched up her face, sending a few more shockwaves through the earth. “I can feel the wood and stone of the buildings buried underneath.”
Avalon’s heart pounded in her chest as she viewed the rectangular patches all around. “So an earth dragon buried this place? What happened to all the people?”
Isolde straightened, fear etched on her face. “I don’t know. I can’t even tell how long ago it happened.”
They walked slowly through the main road of town. Isolde stopped periodically to trace the outline of a former building before moving on.
“What are you searching for?” Avalon asked.
Isolde shrugged. “I’m not sure. I don’t get a complete picture of what’s buried when I sift through the dirt. Fortunately, I don’t feel any living beings anywhere, but then again, the dragons crushed the houses into the tiniest cube possible.”
Like a trash compactor. Avalon shivered at the thought of being buried alive with a house. They would not have survived.
Avalon let her horror turn into rage. “Scawale will stop at nothing to kill humans. Vernal said as much to us. First Jentry, now Lumport.”
“All the more reason to get to the Temple of the Heavens as quickly as possible.” Isolde gestured down a side street that eased away from the main road. “This way.”
The winding path narrowed as the sand dunes encroached on either side of the former town. After they passed the last rectangular patch of dirt and sandy hill, they came upon a wooden pier that had been smashed to bits at the water’s edge. The debris of shattered boats littered the ocean, floating in planks on top of foam. Half chunks of destroyed boats had been cast upon the shore.
Avalon sighed. “So much for the boat idea.”
Scanning the waves, Isolde gave a whoop as she spotted a small fishing boat still intact past the last shattere
d dock. Curved at both ends and with a yellowed sail sagging from its mast, it could not have been longer than twenty feet. “Hope is not lost yet!” she cried as she picked her away through the wooden and metal debris strung over slimy rocks.
Isolde skipped through the beach, immune to the sinking terrain as Avalon lagged behind, trying not to impale herself on any rusted metal. Isolde was examining the fishing boat as Avalon jogged up beside her. Bobbing out at sea on the waves, it seemed seaworthy enough.
“We’re lucky it was an earth dragon that attacked the docks,” Isolde said. “Its magic would have been ineffective in the water. The dragon probably had to smash each boat individually with claw or tail. Apparently it missed one.”
Avalon stared dubiously at the waves lapping at the beach. “I’m not that great of a swimmer.”
“Me neither,” Isolde said, rolling up her sleeves. “But I think I can get us there.” The elf squatted in a sumo stance, hands cupped and pointed at the water’s edge. She scrunched up her face and pushed her hands upward. Within seconds, a large wet boulder pushed through the surface, flat side up.
A stepping stone.
More popped out of the water under Isolde’s straining magic. They created a path that led straight to the bobbing fishing boat. When she got to the final boulder, Isolde almost couldn’t lift it high enough, face bright red and jaw clenched, but she managed to finish the job with a final splash that sent the boat rocking.
Avalon whistled as Isolde bent over her knees, catching her breath. “Nice.”
Isolde took the pack from Avalon, having much firmer footing on the barnacle-encrusted rocks. While the elf hopped from stone to stone, Avalon clambered behind, crouching down to keep her center of gravity low to avoid falling. She missed one of the middle steps, and her left leg was soaked before she could right herself.
When Avalon finally lumbered into the boat, she was completely soaked. Isolde stifled a grin as she bent over to inspect the boat’s rudder. “You look like a long-haired goat caught in a rainstorm.”
“Ha ha,” Avalon said humorlessly. Noting the smooth platform, she took off her shoes and laid them across one of the seating benches to dry.
Isolde examined the boat’s condition. “The tiller’s fine, but I might need help with the halyard.”
Avalon blinked. “Say what now?”
Isolde patted the mast. “I’ll walk you through everything.”
Isolde did most of the work herself, securing the sail in place amongst the various poles and pulleys. She relied on Avalon only to keep the rope taut as she examined various parts of the sail. In characteristic fashion, she also explained all the nautical terms for each part of the boat to Avalon, including their overall function sprinkled with a bit of historic relevance. Avalon forgot it all immediately afterward.
The yellowed sail snapped into place under Isolde’s expert hands. She grabbed the long stick that controlled the rudder. “It’s not the best sail, but it should hold for our purposes.”
Avalon chose a spot as close to the center of the boat as possible. Isolde steered the boat, and the sail immediately caught the wind, propelling them away from the dock wreckage.
As they sailed a few miles, Lumport fell away from view. They followed the coastline, Isolde completely at ease navigating their vessel. Avalon marveled at her sailing skills. “Where did you learn to do all this? I doubt the boulder elves are expert sailors.”
“You pick up things as you travel. I was petrified the first time I stepped onto a boat, but a kind old merfolk gentleman walked me through the basics. Good thing he did, because a few months later, I was forced to sail my own vessel to get out of a difficult situation involving manatees.”
“Manatees?” Avalon thought of the blubbery slow-moving creatures that she’d seen pictures of in her biology class. She was fairly sure their nickname was “sea cows.” “They don’t seem very dangerous to me.”
Isolde dug into her pack. “Not dangerous so much as playful. Too playful.” She pulled out two handkerchiefs. “You need to cover as much of your bare skin as possible, otherwise you’ll burn. Wear this over your head, shading your face as best you can.”
Avalon folded the cloth over her head as instructed, pulling out the sides to create a barrier from the sun. “You sound like someone who speaks from experience.”
“I fried myself once sailing in the summer. My skin peeled for weeks, and the blisters…” She shuddered. “Don’t make the same mistake I did. Keep everything covered, even as the day heats up.”
Despite the season, the sun did indeed bake them, scorching the reflective water as they sailed down the shoreline. The sand dunes morphed into a dense forest, sometimes at sea level but often upon high cliffs overhead. The gulls returned too, apparently not worried without a dragon in the vicinity. Avalon tried to focus on the beauty of the sea in order to ignore the rivers of sweat that poured down her back.
Isolde made sure to keep them hydrated as she rationed their meager water supply. As the sun finished its high arc in the sky and wound its way downward, Isolde also produced more bits of food, including some nuts she had scavenged before Avalon had awoke that morning. Unfortunately, the dry, hard food made Avalon’s throat ache for even more water.
When a fog loomed in the distance, Isolde finally pulled the boat toward the sandy shore. “We’re getting close to the Quawash. I had hoped we could make the entire trip in one go, but the wind wasn’t with us today. We’ll stop for the night and make it to Mt. Hornley tomorrow.”
Avalon agreed with this wise assessment. The Quawash was a desolate, decaying area that surrounded Mt. Hornley, separating it from the rest of Llenwald. That fog up ahead was likely a poisonous cloud, which Avalon had breathed on a previous visit and did not want to experience again.
They pulled into shore as the sun lingered on the horizon, large and red as it sank into the sea. A chill wind blew over the chunky rocks. Avalon finally felt grateful for being covered up. She helped Isolde gather wood for a fire on the edge of the beach. They camped just inside the treeline, trunks blocking out some of the ocean’s more bitter winds now that dusk had settled.
As Isolde stirred the flames, Avalon thought of the day ahead. “Why would anyone build a beautiful temple surrounded by the dump of the Quawash?”
“The Quawash didn’t used to be so dangerous. It had once been Llenwald’s most sacred forest, full of unique animals found nowhere else in the world.”
“What happened to it?”
“Kryvalen.” The word came out as a curse on Isolde’s lips. “When he took control of Braellia and the statue, he defiled the forest. No one knows exactly how. Some speculate he used its ancient magic to create his new dragons. Others say Gaea herself sucked the life out of the forest to box him into Mt. Hornley and hinder his spread to the rest of Llenwald.”
“And the animals?” Avalon prodded. “Did they all disappear too?”
“There are rumors they fled but no confirmed sightings. Many of them were legendary in nature. Even before Kryvalen’s assault on the Quawash, they would have been hard to track down.” Isolde stared beyond the flames, a faraway look in her eyes. “I like to think they survived, that not even Kryvalen’s corruption could have killed them all.”
The sun vanished not long afterward, throwing the beach into flickering shadow. Isolde rummaged through her pack for food but came up empty. “We don’t have much food or water left.”
“I can hold off for the night,” Avalon said. “We can get more supplies at Forgotten Bend.” She referred to the black market town at the base of Mt. Hornley.
But Isolde shook her head. “It’s never wise to go on so few rations. Trust me, I’ve nearly starved to death. It is not something I’d wish upon even my worst enemy.” She picked up the canteen and flung a small pouch over her shoulder. “I’ll rummage around the forest and see if I can find a fresh water source and some roots.”
Avalon stood. “I can help.”
Isolde motioned tow
ard the blaze. “The wind has been erratic. Someone needs to stay to keep the fire going. Don’t worry. I’ll return soon.”
Isolde slunk into the forest before Avalon could protest.
Avalon shivered as she huddled closer to the fire. Isolde’s absence cast a completely different atmosphere upon the beach. Avalon had camped out plenty of times but never by herself and surely not in a land where she wasn’t familiar with the night life. The nocturnal animals began to emerge, bringing with them cries and noises that Avalon tried to reassure herself were normal. The rustle of furry animals in the brush. The clicks of insects as they called to their friends. A long shriek, followed by the furious flapping of wings in the trees above nearly caused Avalon to cry out in alarm. She managed to keep her own noise contained to the furious beating of her heart.
“It’s just the woods,” she reminded herself. “No one’s out there.”
Minutes dragged by. Avalon threw more logs onto the fire, focusing on the lapping of waves to calm her spirits. Her heartbeat had resumed its normal rhythm when a loud thud sounded on the beach.
Avalon swallowed a gasp, whirling around to find the source of the noise. She expected a bird or maybe a small mammal. To her horror, she found instead, a sizable creature drenched in shadow near their boat. As large as a person, it seemed very interested in the boat, a paw running over the stern. Avalon crouched under the bushes while simultaneously trying to get a better view of the creature, a difficult task given that the fire shone brightly near her face, making it difficult to discern anything beyond its ring of light.
As the creature circled the boat, Avalon tried desperately to think of what to do. She could not make out what it was. A bear maybe? She swallowed. They were not far from the Quawash. Maybe Isolde was right, and some of those magical creatures still roamed these lands. It could be vicious and attack her at any moment.
The creature fixated on the boat, crawling inside at one point. Avalon panicked. She couldn’t let it destroy their mode of transportation, but she also had no idea what it was or how to scare it off. Waves of magic collided inside her, but she pushed those instincts aside. Magic was currently off limits, and she doubted she could fight it off with the stack of driftwood next to her.
