A female stood before him, so slender it seemed a mere breath of wind could blow her away. She was only about four feet tall with fair skin and long, light golden hair. “I am Glashar the Falidrain.” Her words were like waters tumbling down a waterfall.
She wore a white shirt and green tunic as he did, yet she wore a flowing skirt. A quiver of white-tipped arrows and a small bow lay across her back. A tiny bag was tied about her waist.
Eliesmore stared at her.
She motioned for him to sit, and she sat across from him. “I was escaping from the massacres the Rakhai initiated when they went through Shimla, raiding and killing many of my kind, the Idrains.” She began as if she could read the questions in his mind that lay unasked on his tongue.
“I simply thought of escaping and going to the Beyond with the others. Yet, a thought held me back.” She paused for a minute, her eyes misting over as if that thought held her back once again. “I ended up here, finding Ellagine, Optimistic, and Arldrine right after the Rakhai fled. Once here, I realized my powers were not in vain. I was meant to help you because you were nearly dead and already passing. The Rakhai would have claimed your soul and then you would have…” Glashar paused, sucking in air through her lips. “In a way, you would have become one of them.” Her eyes were lost, staring off as if she were reliving the moment. “Ellagine was upset. She used all her power to drive the Monrages away. She was exhausted, and what she had done was not enough. This is why I am here. I was given a limited amount of power, the ability to stand between life and death. I have wielded great powers in my day, but the more I use it, the more it fades. I used up all of my remaining power, stretching it to its full extent to bring you back because you are the One. Now you will heal and grow strong.”
Eliesmore felt humbled. Something had kept her from fleeing to the Beyond and had thrown her into his path to heal him. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you.”
“What more could I do?” Glashar stood, her large eyes unwilling to display emotion. “You are the One.”
An uncomfortable silence followed. Eliesmore rose, unsure what else he should say. The Idrains were uncanny, as easy as it was to sing and dance in their presence, when it came to the grave happenings in the world, he did not know how to react.
“Eliesmore!” Optimistic’s hand landed on his shoulder, spinning him around. “We thought…” A huge grin covered his face. “We thought you were gone, and now you’re back, alive again!”
Before Eliesmore could respond, Arldrine ran up beside him. She seemed more of a serious one, but her joy was unmistakable. “You’re alive.” She flung back her head and laughed with relief. Optimistic joined her, his deep-throated chuckle dissipating the gloomy aura of the forest. Eliesmore took a deep breath. Their joy was intoxicating, and he found himself laughing, knowing the fate from which he was saved. The next thing he knew, both Optimistic and Arldrine were embracing him, patting him on the back and asking him how he felt. When Eliesmore lifted his head, Ellagine was there.
Arldrine and Optimistic fell back as Eliesmore walked up to Ellagine. There were tears in her eyes, and she twisted her fingers together, like a child who made a mistake and was begging for forgiveness. He wanted to reach out and comfort her. He wanted to tell her it was all right; he had been saved. Instead, unless words fell from his mouth: “Thank you.” She knelt, touching him gently as if he might break. When she was sure he was okay, she lay her head against his warm chest and held him tight.
They decided not to travel farther that day, giving Eliesmore time to eat and regain his strength. “What happened?” Eliesmore asked as they lounged in the forest.
Ellagine sighed, letting her exhaustion fleeing between her lips. “It was all quite terrible.” She shuddered. Her eyes were strained as if she had seen too much and hadn’t slept for days. She described what happened after the Monrage stabbed him and Optimistic’s comforting song. “There was nothing I could do.” Her voice broke. “You turned cold, which was strange because the Monrages burn first and then freeze. I think going backward made you worse. You would not wake up, and we couldn’t tell if your heart was beating. You were cold as death, and I could do nothing.” Tears filled Ellagine’s eyes, and her lips trembled. She brushed them away impatiently and went on, her voice sinking. “I never thought the day would come when I was powerless to help you. I thought the quest would fail and you would die or become something horrible. I thought the end had come and we would all be given over to the power of evil to be tormented forever. But Glashar came. Using her powers, she waged war against the Great-Black-Evil. They had already taken you by then, and she fought long and hard to win you back. As she gained the upper hand, the cold slipped away, and now you are warm and alive…” She broke off, emotion overwhelming her.
“Yes.” Glashar sat apart from the others with her arms folded. “I do not know what lasting effects the encounter with the Monrages will have on you. Only time will tell.” Her eyes were pensive as she gazed into the dark wood. Pulling herself together, she sat up straight. Worry left her face. “When Ellagine fought the Rakhai, there was a shift in the balance of power. The Monrages lost their horses but were seized with strength. I am afraid they killed many White Steeds. The Iaen continued in their flight to the Beyond; however, eleven horses, the swiftest in the land, were brought here by the Daelidrains. These are the things I saw as I fled through the woods. There is more. The Xctas and Zikes of the Western World are on their way with a great company of Mermis, descendants of Crinte the Wise and Marklus the Healer. The Silver Herd from Spherical Land is bringing them here to help us. They will come and persuade Black Steeds to become White Steeds and fight with us. It will take them anywhere from six months to a year to arrive because they have only just started. It gives us hope, knowing help will come even in this dark world. Eliesmore, if your quest is not completed, the Four Worlds will sink. You have a task similar to the Five Warriors except it is far greater. The world is in your hands, even though there are evil powers you cannot see. Do not be discouraged because there is hope. You are the One. You can defeat them all, which is why I am coming with you.”
Eliesmore’s eyes widened in surprised as he looked at the Falidrain. There was an ethereal, golden glow about her, and he could almost see her lost powers floating above her in waves of glory. How could it be that she would give up her flight to the Beyond and join a quest that would cost her everything?
“We need eleven to go against the Rakhai.” Ellagine interrupted his musing. “We will go to the fortress and take with us all those who are left if they are willing. We must go with all speed.”
Arldrine nodded. “Tomorrow we shall be out of this dreadful forest.” At Eliesmore’s surprised look, she added, “We went far while you were healing.”
Eliesmore touched his side, the pain continued to lessen into a dull ache. “What is all this power between the Black Steeds and White Steeds?” he asked, eyes flickering from Ellagine to Glashar. “I do not understand.”
“There are two different powers.” Ellagine lifted her hands, palm up. “Light and dark. Good and Evil. The Changers uncovered dark powers and taught the way of the Great-Black-Evil to the Black Steeds. There is also light power given to White Steeds to use for good to keep the balance. The Black Steeds use their power to stop anything that might happen to benefit the White Steeds, and the White Steeds use their power to stop the Black Steeds from stopping what might happen. That is the simplest explanation, though there are different levels of power. I have the power of combat; I used it to chase away the Rakhai. Glashar has...had the power of life and death; she used her gift to heal you. Powers are only given to the few because some are unfaithful and others are not trustworthy. It is given for different reasons. Some are chosen, and others are not. I know it is a great responsibility; ones with power must be wise in all they do.”
“I see.” Eliesmore studied each of his companions in turn as if seeing them with new eyes. They had known the risks when they joined h
is company; they did not have a prophecy forcing them into an impossible quest. Their faces were exhausted, yet they were willing and unselfish. Shame pricked his conscious as again he remembered his rude treatment of Ellagine and how he had run away. The worst had happened to this small group, yet they were still there.
“There are many mysteries in their world.” Glashar untied her bag and pulled out several shiny, green leaves from the magnificent land of Novor Tur-Woodberry and his Singing Men. She wove them into a crown and placed them on her head. Pain and evil faded, and even the grimness of the wood waned. “I remember the nights when the Idrains used to sing and dance together.” Her face turned up in a euphoric memory, dreams of it whispering through the wood. “When the sun came up, we would sing and dance away to our home, the green havens. Many suspected we went there to sleep. However, we gathered in our beautiful kingdoms that nary a Black Steed could find.” The joy evaporated from her face like clouds hiding the light; it was replaced with longing. “The Idrains have left this world. They feared the Rakhai and left their kingdoms in ruin. One day, Eliesmore, when you have completed your quest, better times will come. In the past, we sang and danced for many nights. We feasted with food and drink under the light of the stars. When the Green People of the Western World came, they took us to new heights of glory. ‘Song’ was foretold yet none dreamed it would affect us, the immortals, the Iaen, the Idrains. Alas. Magdela the Monrage sprang from our midst. She was the first Iaen to join the Black Steeds, except for the Wodnidrains. She told all the White Steeds beautiful secrets and all the Black Steeds dark ones, and the South World has gone wrong ever since. You can restore it Eliesmore. Not to what it was, but you can make it far greater and far better.” She motioned with her hands, encompassing the five of them that sat in the glade. “We will help you.”
“Yes,” Eliesmore whispered, “help me bear this burden.”
“We will,” said Ellagine, “we will.”
Deep down, Eliesmore knew he was alone. The others might come with him, but it would be his responsibility to dissolve the Green Stone and lead the armies of the White Steeds out to fight. Doubts flooded his mind as he thought of the complexity of his mission. What if there wasn’t an army? Glashar had said the armies of the Western World were coming. What if they never made it? What if they drowned in Oceantic? Every day some calamity happened to make his quest impossible. What if he failed? What if he lost his friends to the Black Steeds? How could they achieve the impossible? The Five Warriors had, but they already had a large army willing and waiting for the call. Pharengon of the Jeweled Sword and his Companions had stopped a civil war by going to the North Forests. There they slew Magdela the Monrage and faced a great dranagin. Perhaps he too could do the impossible and conquer the world. His eyes met Ellagine’s as he came out of his musings. “When do we move on?”
“At dawn,” Ellagine responded. He could see a ring of redness around her eyes, and worry pricked his mind as she finished with a sigh. “Glashar and I are weak; we must sleep.”
The rest of the afternoon Eliesmore spent lying on the ground staring up into the trees. The others had gone to sleep away their exhaustion and recoup their diminished powers. They had carried Eliesmore far, and none of them had slept at all the past two days. Thinking of his narrow escape, Eliesmore put a hand on his bandage. The pain had faded, leaving only an old ache. Closing his eyes, he drifted back to sleep.
When he woke next, Optimistic was awake. He sat cross-legged in front of Eliesmore and pulled the Green Stone out of his tunic. Instantly, green light flooded the wood and shone in their faces, turning them a brighter green with the strange power it held. The green light shimmered, and as Eliesmore stared at it, he noticed there was golden light as well as silver shining within. Optimistic held it out toward Eliesmore like a gift.
“But you are the Keeper of the Green Stone,” Eliesmore protested, desiring and dreading the stone.
“Yes, I know. Just hold it,” Optimistic encouraged, holding his hands out. “Since we were talking about power today, you should feel this. It is the greatest power in this world.”
Wordlessly, Eliesmore touched the stone. It was smooth without the slightest mar in it. Growing bold, he picked it up out of Optimistic’s hands and held it in his own. The stone was heavy, and yet he began to feel as if light were flowing through his veins. He lifted his eyebrows in surprise as he glanced at Optimistic.
Optimistic smiled. “I told you it holds power, and when it is dissolved, the power will take over you, and you will be unstoppable.”
“What about you?” Eliesmore inquired. “You carry the Green Stone. What will you receive?”
“Eliesmore.” Optimistic waved his hands as if he had been trying to tell him something over and over again. “I would do anything for you to get nothing back. I will carry the Green Stone all the way to the Constel Heights and protect it because I am its Keeper. You will receive the power because you are the One.” There was not the slightest hint of jealousy in Optimistic's voice, only genuine humbleness. “Great are the rewards of Heroes and those who lay down their lives for others,” he finished, his face alight.
Eliesmore listened to those words and, gazing with awe from the Green Stone to Optimistic’s face, realized what a great friend he had.
24
Eliesmore
Eliesmore woke before dawn, feeling refreshed, revived, and ready to travel on his own two feet. He stood, trying not to be rough on his mending body. Finding his pack, he shook Optimistic awake. “Come, let’s wake the others.”
Optimistic opened his mouth wide, yawning. He stretched before he snatched up his pack and led the way to where Glashar, Ellagine, and Arldrine were sleeping on the other side of some trees. “Eliesmore.” He scratched his head at the empty glade. “They were right here.”
“Yes.” Eliesmore spun around in confusion. “I could see them from where we slept. Where have they gone?”
“Maybe they just left for a moment and will be returning to wake us,” Optimistic suggested. Then he shook his head. “That wouldn’t make any sense. Let’s just look around for a bit.”
They crept through the sinister forest, inwardly blaming it for misplacing their friends. Eliesmore strained his eyes, staying close to Optimistic and wishing the forest were brighter. The light of the Green Stone would be helpful in their search, yet it was too dangerous to pull out. Optimistic paused abruptly, and Eliesmore bumped into him. “What is it?” he whispered, eyes darting upward.
“Look!” Optimistic knelt to examine the ground. “Footprints.”
Eliesmore squatted beside him, taken aback by what he saw. A booted front print was stamped into the mud; the size of it made his heart quail. It was at least two feet long. “Are there more?” Eliesmore asked, his voice hoarse.
“Yes, let’s follow them.” Optimistic crept forward, his eyes on the ground. “Maybe the owner of these footprints took our friends.”
Eliesmore felt a lump in his throat as they continued into the thicket. What were they following? What kind of monster would be waiting for them at the end? Just when he opened his mouth to protest, he remembered that he was part Cron. Lust for adventure ran through his veins, and the words he spoke next were filled with venom: “Let’s get our friends back.”
The trail led them farther into the murkiness of the woods, and a smoky haze muted the dim light as the trees thinned. Optimistic motioned for Eliesmore to stay behind him as he crept stealthily toward the sound of a fire, crackling and popping. In fact, when Eliesmore strained his ears, he realized the fire was singing a nasty song:
“Crackle! Pop! I’m getting hot!
Ready, ready to turn them tart.
High I go; you stack the wood.
Up I’ll fly to the roasting stick,
Roast the creatures! Crackle! Pop!
Smoke billows rise high in the sky.
Tell everyone in the forest.
Let them smell the cooking pot.
Squish them! Sq
uash them!
Now the bones slide out nicely.”
The fire continued to sing its carnivorous song. Optimistic nudged Eliesmore and pointed. The owner of the footprints lumbered into view, carrying a massive pot. It was a twelve-foot-tall giant with dark hair that stuck out from his face like a willful cloud. His muscular, bare arms were covered in hair, as was his face. He paused for a moment to drop three people into the pot before dragging it toward the fire. Eliesmore glanced at Optimistic who already had a white-tipped arrow in his bow. “Let’s go,” Optimistic whispered.
Eliesmore yanked his Jeweled Sword out of its sheath with such force his side began to hurt again. He hissed in pain as black spots danced before his eyes. When his vision cleared, he saw the fire dancing as it sang its naughty song. Pursing his lips in displeasure, he scanned the clearing for ideas. When his eyes landed on a cracked bucket of water, he took a deep breath and put his sword back away. With a rush of adrenaline, he snatched up the bucket of water, ran to the fire, and threw it over it. The song the fire sang puttered out as it sunk to glowing embers. Eliesmore nodded with satisfaction as a shadow fell over him. He turned around and looked up into the scowling face of the giant. “I am the Olgla Man!” the giant bellowed, the roar of his voice shaking the leaves on the trees. “I have my tribe, and we do whatever we like in this forest. You must be punished for destroying my fire!” He dropped the pot he’d been carrying. A second later, Arldrine climbed out, giving Glashar and Ellagine a hand.
Out of the corner of his eye, Eliesmore saw Arldrine sprint over to where her bow and arrows lay. Apparently, the giant had taken their weapons while they slept. He could see Optimistic had an arrow trained on the Olgla Man. Feeling confident, he pulled out his sword and aimed the sharp point at the giant. “You took my friends. I have come to take them back,” he replied, proud of his calm and even tone as he addressed the giant. He could be a leader after all, and he straightened his shoulders, his head swelling with pride.
The Complete Four Worlds Series Page 77
