The Complete Four Worlds Series

by Angela J. Ford

  15

  Eliesmore

  A hand clamped over his mouth, and Eliesmore woke in terror. His eyes bulged as he gasped for air. His chest exploded in agony as if there were knives inside of him, ripping his insides apart. Eliesmore whimpered through the fingers clasped over his mouth. “Quiet,” the voice ordered. A knife was at his fingertips, sawing away the rope and freeing his raw hands. “You can escape,” the voice went on. “Run. Run as fast as you can. Never stop.”

  Suddenly he was free. Eliesmore spun, but the guard who had freed him was faster. In a blur of darkness, the cloaked male disappeared, leaving Eliesmore alone in the dark. With a pounding heart and shaking hands, Eliesmore let terror and fear drive him as he ran, pushing past his pain and exhaustion and holding onto the words of his strange savior.

  Eliesmore did not know how long he ran. It could have been hours; it could have been days. His horror would not let him stop. He could have run in circles because it was pitch black. He tripped and fell over and over again, each time managing to get up and keep running. Eerie screams echoed around him, only making him run faster. He was underground, and it was cold, but even the chill did not stop him. His body was sore; he was hungry, exhausted, thirsty, in pain, and sorrier than he had ever been in his life.

  As he fled, he imagined terrible creatures coming after him, hidden in the shadows. He felt the Black Steeds chasing him. At times, it seemed like they breathed down his neck and in a second he would trip and they would capture him. His imaginary terrors only stimulated him to move faster. The pain in his arm, chest, and head began to increase, and he slipped on something and went rolling. He jumped up, his heart thumping wildly, and he stumbled again as he realized the ground inclined sharply upward. Panting and sweating, Eliesmore slipped and stumbled his way upward until he reached ground level. Far off in the distance, he thought he saw the twinkle of light. His mind must have been playing a trick on him because when he moved forward it was gone.

  Now he paused, looking backward and forward. He only saw darkness. He believed he was stuck in the underground tunnel. His wrong choices led him to destruction. Before long the Black Steeds would catch up with him, and it would be over. Frustrated, Eliesmore groaned as he moved forward; his feet hurt as he forced them to run. Every movement sent spasms through his wounded arm. He could not stop now.

  A few minutes more brought Eliesmore into the night air as he burst out of the tunnel. The wind stirred, drying his sweat as he turned towards what he thought was Shimla and he ran. Slowly his heart calmed down, his panic faded, and the pain threatened to overwhelm him. As the wicked castle faded into the background, Eliesmore found himself slowing into a weary walk. He pitched forward into the grass and slept.

  In the morning, Eliesmore woke to a sunrise. He dragged himself up and glanced behind, the sight of the dark castle in the distance brought the horrors of the torture chambers reeling back to his mind. His throat tightened as if the guard were holding his head underwater again. With a sob, Eliesmore was up and running again. In the afternoon, he reached a stream. He slid down the riverbank into it. The chill of the water numbed his open wound and parched his thirst. Feeling as if his body could not take any more travel, he climbed out of the stream and fell asleep on the riverbank, sweating hard and turning restlessly all through the night.

  Daylight spurred him on. He knew the world was dangerous; he had to get back to Shimla.

  Eliesmore walked on, feeling weaker by the minute, yet a deep peace settled in his heart. He looked down at his torn, wet, bloodstained clothes, and to him, they seemed brighter than the day before. A faint smiled tugged at the corners of Eliesmore’s mouth; he was a White Steed now, and a White Steed to stay. He was not excited about what he had to do, yet anything was better than being tormented by the Black Steeds in their horrible castle.

  He remembered when he was fifteen and Irnidrathe had taken him to see the crystallized waters. The voice had warned him his strong will could ruin his future, and he almost had let it. Yet his future was too sure for his life to end. Despite his mother, he had found the Jeweled Sword. He was returning to Ellagine despite not wanting to be the One. He was going to find adventure beyond the woods and bring the White Steeds out of living in hiding. He would be the answer to “Song”, and even as the thought scared him, it made him determined.

  As darkness fell, Eliesmore was not sure he would wake up and see the light of another day. His body felt like water, his arm throbbed with a dull pain, and his sleep was feverish. He dreamed he was back in Shimla with Ellagine and his Jeweled Sword. She explained to him what to do. Only when he woke, he was still alone. He got up; he was cold for the first time and shaking all over. He tried to make his feet run, but they would not obey him. As the day passed, his steps became more lethargic, until he saw another creek. He stumbled to it, and as he drank, he happened to look up, and he saw the dense forest of Shimla.

  Encouragement was all he needed. Instead of succumbing to sleep, Eliesmore stood up and forced himself to run. His vision blurred, his head felt it would explode, and his arm pounded with pain. He felt he could not breathe. If he could get to Shimla, he would be closer to Ellagine, and the cover of the forest would keep him safe. Just when he thought he would not make it, Eliesmore darted into the cover of the woods, tripped on a tree branch and sprawled on the ground. He could taste blood in his mouth and throat as he lay still, too exhausted to move. With one last effort, he rolled over and curled up, letting the fever take over.

  16

  Eliesmore

  Three days passed. Eliesmore did not know where he was or what was happening. He distinctly remembered being carried somewhere, and as much as he feared it was the Black Steeds again, he was too weak to fight. When he finally came to himself, he was lying in a bed of leaves and grass cushioned by the ground. His body did not hurt anymore. The air was gentle and no longer was he sweating and shivering. Eliesmore opened his eyes and sat up, feeling rested and whole.

  “Eliesmore. You’re awake.” Ellagine sat in front of him, smiling with relief, although her blue eyes were still wary of him.

  Eliesmore noticed he was back in the glade; the crystallized stream flowed before him, and the thick trees towered above him on all sides. His arm was bandaged, and he wore his torn tunic. Eliesmore turned to Ellagine’s kind face. “I’m sorry.” He hung his head.

  “You raged in your fever, telling us your story.”

  Eliesmore bit his lip in shame. “How long has it been?”

  “Three days with the fever. Yesterday you finally fell into a deep sleep.” She turned towards the trees. “I have one I would like you to meet. He found and brought you here after the fever took over.”

  Eliesmore raised his head as a young Cron came forward. He was five and half feet tall with straight blond hair that flopped on his forehead and barely touched his shoulders in the back. He wore dark green pants, a white shirt, and a dark green tunic, mirroring the colors of the forest. Strapped to his back was a quiver of white-tipped arrows, and in one hand he carried a curved bow. Eliesmore assumed they were close to the same age, give or take a few years. The Cron smiled as if he did not have a care in the world. “Hello, Eliesmore. I am Léthin the Optimistic; most people call me Optimistic.”

  Eliesmore was not sure how to express his thanks, but Ellagine spoke up before he could utter a word, admiration shining out of her eyes.

  “Optimistic is the Keeper of the Green Stone.”

  “The Green Stone.” Eliesmore gasped in awe as he looked at the Cron. His perspective changed. “What is it?”

  “You have never heard the legend of the Green Stone?”

  Optimistic gave Ellagine an inquiring look. She nodded. He sat down across from Eliesmore, reached inside his tunic for a bag, and untied the drawstring, pulling out a stone. It looked like glass yet shimmered green; the light shining out of it danced like ripples in the water as if it were alive. The stone was large, filling the palm of Optimistic’s hand. A green hue beg
an to shine out of it. Eliesmore stared, his mouth hanging open, for he had never seen such a wonder, not even in the cave of jewels. The potency rippling off the stone filled him with dread; he dared not reach out a hand and touch it. The mere sight of it made him want to prostrate himself on the ground, for he was not worthy, yet he fiercely desired it. Mixed feelings surfaced, one as strong as the other; he wanted to snatch the stone from Optimistic’s hand and hide it from sight.

  “This stone,” Optimistic began, “was first mined by the moles who lived in the Holesmoles years ago. Although they found many jewels, they were nothing compared to the Green Stone and the strange light and power it holds. So, it was kept hidden from the Black Steeds and passed through generations of Treasure Hunters. When the Green People fled from the Western World and came to the South World, they told the prophecy about the One who will dissolve the Green Stone. The power of the Green Stone must be released before we can fight against the Black Steeds and hope to win. It is our light partly because it shines in the dark, and partly because if it is taken, the White Steeds will be completely destroyed with no hope of salvation. The Green Stone must be taken to the fountain of Idrain water in the Constel Heights.”

  Eliesmore nodded. “Where are the Constel Heights? The Idrains live here. Would not the fountain of Idrain water be close by?”

  Optimistic sighed, the joy fading from his face as he put the stone away. “No, the Constel Heights are on the other side of the Jaded Sea in the far west.”

  “Come,” Ellagine beckoned. “Let us look at the map.”

  The three of them moved towards the stream, and as they looked in the crystallized water, a map of the South World appeared. The South World was divided in half by the Jaded Sea, and Eliesmore finally found the Constel Heights. It was not only on the other side of the sea, but it was in the upper northwest corner. “That is far,” Eliesmore whispered in disbelief.

  “Yes,” said Ellagine, “which is why we are going with you.”

  Eliesmore’s face lit up as he looked from Ellagine to Optimistic. He wanted to embrace them. “You will?” he exclaimed, breathing a sigh of relief. “I know so little of the world. I don’t know how to be the One. I am the worst person to pick for this task.”

  “Eliesmore,” Optimistic cut him off, “you will learn. You will be the leader someday, you’ll see.”

  “We will not be the only ones joining you,” Ellagine added. “Why do you think we have waited all these years? Others will come, most of them from our fortress in Sanga San. We will go to meet them. Once you are surrounded by warriors, we will set forth on our first quest.”

  Eliesmore smiled. “I thought I would be going alone.”

  Ellagine paused as if she would like to explain more. “Eliesmore, we only have a few days left. You see, the protective barrier that has guarded this land is fading now that you are of age.” Ellagine pointed to the map. “See Truemonix? You and I must go find Arldrine the Ezinck; she will have news for us. Optimistic, you must meet us there.”

  Optimistic nodded quickly. “Eliesmore, follow me.” He led the way back to the cave, leaving Ellagine standing in the glade alone. “We have to get you some new clothes, food, and your sword.”

  “That’s right, the Jeweled Sword.” Eliesmore snuck a glance back at Ellagine, ensuring they were out of earshot. “Ellagine saved my life by taking it.”

  Optimistic laid a comforting hand on Eliesmore's shoulder as they walked. “I know you are sorry about what happened, but you escaped, and it is in the past now. We knew you would return, and since you are here now, this is what matters.”

  Eliesmore nodded, at a loss of what to say as they reached the cave. He shivered at the thought of his escape and the stranger who had freed him. Those dark memories were best forgotten.

  Optimistic led him to a shallow passage and passed Eliesmore some clothes. They were green like Optimistic’s. Eliesmore quickly changed out of his torn, bloody clothes while Optimistic held the Jeweled Sword, waiting. “I’m sorry I did not bring traveling boots with me; you will get some when we reach the fortress. Here are a new belt and sheath for your sword. I took the liberty of sharpening it for you; it is truly magnificent.”

  Eliesmore fastened the sword around his waist, glad to have the weight of the steel swinging beside him. “Thank you. Why aren’t you coming with us?”

  “Your mother, she has been your protector. Ellagine suggested I go tell her what has become of you.”

  “You know about my mother?” Eliesmore froze in surprise.

  “Ellagine told me; she knows.” Optimistic passed Eliesmore a piece of parchment, berry juice, and a large feather. “Do you know how to read and write? Your mother would appreciate a message in your own words.”

  Eliesmore sat down to write, suddenly missing his mother keenly. He remembered falling asleep at night while she hummed a song or told him a fantastic story. The world did not seem so dark and dangerous under her care. For a moment, he wanted to go with Optimistic and see her again.

  He swallowed hard as he scratched out a note, wishing he could write more, but the parchment was small. His mother already knew he was the One, and she believed in him. She understood far beyond what she had told him. All his life he had known joy; she had not bothered to burden him with darker thoughts of the past, present, and future.

  Eliesmore handed the folded parchment to Optimistic who hid it in his tunic. He handed Eliesmore a pack. “Now go swiftly. I will see you in three days. Goodbye, Eliesmore.”

  “Goodbye, Optimistic.” Eliesmore turned to rejoin Ellagine as the forest shifted.

  “Come, Eliesmore.” She held out a hand, beckoning him. “We should run.”

  17

  Eliesmore

  “Wait here,” Ellagine cautioned as they entered the woods of Truemonix three days later. Eliesmore froze beside a broad redwood tree, tilting his head as Ellagine walked forward a few paces, her footsteps silent. The forest was old. Its trees were twice the size of those in Shimla, and gray roots grew about them. The silence was intimidating, and Eliesmore took quick, shallow breaths as he waited, his eyes darting back and forth. Were there eyes watching him from the underbrush? Would he be attacked by a creature leaping from above, crashing down on his head? His fingers closed around the hilt of his sword. He tugged at the neck of his shirt, and he took a step backward. The pungent odor of root and mold overwhelmed his senses, causing his eyes to water. Lifting an arm, he brushed at his face. When he brought his hand down, he saw a female striding towards Ellagine, her hips swaying seductively with each step.

  Eliesmore assessed her. It was evident she was an Ezinck, a people group most often found in forests. They were known for their strength and skill with the blade. She stood over five and a half feet tall with jet black hair hanging to her shoulders. It curled at the end, and Eliesmore could not help but follow the swoosh of her hair as she walked. Her skin was a blend of dark walnuts, ebony, and molasses, a stark contrast to Ellagine’s green glow. Eliesmore scratched the back of his neck as he eyes roamed from Ellagine back to the Ezinck, recognizing their beauty yet unable to compare them. His face flushed as he watched them exchange words, and he wondered whether most of his companions would be female.

  Ellagine motioned towards Eliesmore, and the Ezinck turned, the grim line of her face softening as Ellagine beckoned to Eliesmore, inviting him to join them. “I am Arldrine, at your service,” the Ezinck introduced herself, her voice laced with respect. She wore the same pattern of green clothes Optimistic wore and carried a bow in one hand. Strapped on her back was a quiver of white arrows, and in her belt, a bone-white dagger gleamed. “I will join your quest.” She bowed her head before lifting it to meet his eyes.

  Once again Eliesmore found himself unsure how to react. He had not grown up with friends and speaking to his mother did not take tact and respect. Dancing with the Iaen turned out to have little use outside of their realm. He was out of his comfort zone, forced to think of something appropriate to say to
show her he appreciated her service. “Thank you. I am Eliesmore.”

  “Arldrine has information for us,” Ellagine explained.

  Arldrine nodded; her eyes narrowed as she took in their surroundings. “I will tell all when Optimistic comes.”

  “Arldrine, you know a safe place; let us move deeper into the woods,” Ellagine suggested.

  Arldrine spun on one heel, her boots spraying chunks of mud behind her. Eliesmore tucked his chin in and glanced over his shoulder towards the opening of the woods. A darkness passed in front of his vision, and he shivered. He had the vague sense a dark evil was following him. As he turned to follow Arldrine, his gaze met Ellagine’s. A question lay behind those deep eyes, and Eliesmore felt a flicker in his heart, although she said nothing.

  They settled deeper in the wood, leaned against trees, and made small talk as the hours passed. The shadows lengthened, and the last meal passed. Eliesmore found himself jumping at every slight noise in the thicket, swallowing nervously as they waited. As the sun set, they heard a rustling in the underbrush. Arldrine rose, holding up a finger for silence as she cocked her head. Cupping her hands over her mouth, she hooted out a low call, pausing briefly before calling again. Eliesmore ran his fingers through his hair in befuddlement, glancing from Ellagine to Arldrine. What was she doing? She sounded like a bird of the wild. The cry came drifting back, repeated three times. “That’s him,” Arldrine announced.

  A few moments later, Optimistic jogged into the circle, stopping with a grin on his face when he saw the three. Ellagine rose, and Eliesmore followed her lead.