By: Brianna Lee Hubler
Copyright © 2024 Brianna Lee Hubler. All rights reserved.
Parley, Passage, and Pity
__________Talsis dismounted along a moist, dirt path. The deer-trodden trail passed through an evergreen forest, down the jagged rockface of a ten-foot cliff, and into the soft, white sand of a small, hidden beach. The forest’s last line of defense against the encroaching sea was a row of crooked cedar trees. Their roots fought to sap nutrients from the thin soil that topped the cliff; they competed for space and sustenance. The trees appeared as a row of poorly trained archers, cowering between the parapets of a sylvan fortress. Beneath the forested cliff, loud, violent waves splashed onto the shore, inching closer to the rockface with each pulse.
__________A titan of the sea, blinded by rage, casting a net of power onto the shoreline, until it snags the soldier who stole his sight, Talsis bemused. These are the sights that inspire myths among mortals.
__________Talsis walked his horse to the edge of the cliff, fastened his horse’s reins to one of the misshapen trunks, and then cautiously climbed down the rockface. He descended by touch. His eyes hung over his shoulder: He scouted the waves gnawing away at the shoreline. He knew better than to turn his back to the ocean. His people—the Querathoskatheermor—made a home of the aquatic frontier, but they never claimed to have tamed it.
__________I’m no more welcome than that blinding soldier, Talsis considered. Not anymore.
__________The raw ferocity of natural waves was no gentler to the elves bound to Quera—the Element of Water—than it was to other creatures dwelling either above or within its depths. The sea could toss Talsis, bash him against the rocks, drown him, or beach him, as easily as it could a lump of driftwood. His magic could save him, or it could betray him. It depended on whether the might of the sea favored its source; whether it despised him for binding himself to a woman bound to its opposite. Elements could be fickle. Talsis would not cross the beach inattentively.
__________The jagged rockface scraped and bloodied his bare hands.
__________“Par for the course,” Talsis thought, so he did not inspect them. Nevertheless, when his bleeding hands wet the rocks, he slipped, and then his gaze thoughtlessly darted to the rockface.
__________Talsis fell. The ocean roared. A behemoth wave rose, arched over the beach, snapped its liquid jaws shut around Talsis, and swallowed him whole.
__________He was tossed from side to side, as he went down the throat of the wave. The stomach of the sea churned, sloshing him, spinning him, and forcing him down. Instantaneously, the bioluminescent highlights of his soaked hair lit up, and the gills on either side of his neck peeled open. The deeper the sea dragged him, the faster his pupils widened. He could breathe, he could see, but he could not still the underwater whirlpool that tossed him. He did not trust his magic to obey him, and he was not built for rough handling. So, he surrendered his body to the mighty ocean: Wrath shrivels where love extends… Take me as far down as I must go to rescue Fruyr and Kimio.
__________As the water grew colder, darker, and heavier, the current spit Talsis onto a flat, solid surface beneath it. It smacked him against the main deck of a ship, with thunderous force. He went through the upper deck and crashed again onto the deck below. Through dizzied eyes, he saw the tall, clingy, leather boots of an Elvish sailor, as she scampered towards him. Enraged, the sailor’s face scrunched. She spun her wrist and bent her fingers to cast. A current stirred between her fingertips. Like a lasso, the magical current bound the accidental stowaway, and dragged him towards its angry caster.
__________Fortunately, the sailor’s expression softened, once she recognized Talsis, even though he had tunneled through the main deck of her ship. She released the current with a flick of her wrist, and then she signed something to Talsis. For, when the sea hindered their speech, Sea elves often spoke to one another in signs.
__________Raimie, I’m too sore… Too tired to read that, Talsis thought, but I trust you’re going to help me. You’re… taller than when we last met.
__________Raimie placed a hand upon Talsis’s shoulder and another hand upon his hip bone. First, she rolled him onto his back, and then she pressed a pointed ear to his chest. A little banged up, she decided, but not burnt out.
__________Although his pulse and breath were steady, Talsis’s dizzied eyes were vignetted in grey, and then blinded by unconscious sleep: His head had not taken well to being tossed about. Raimie carried him to her cabin, and then she gave the order for her ship to be raised to the surface for immediate repairs.
__________The ship jetted out of the water. Its starboard bow shot to the surface, like the beak of a heron. Its hull fanned out and settled atop the water, like the feathered body of the bird. The drawbridge door on the ship’s side was lowered at sea level. Crewmen waved their arms to the rhythm of the sea and cast the water back from whence it came.
__________A small cohort of shipwrights departed from the others and marched to the main deck, with stacks of boards under their arms and tools equipped to their belts. Normally, repairs would have been made underwater, but Stand-in Captain Raimie was unsure whether the elf-shaped bullet fired at her ship still had the fins for it.
* * *
__________Raimie whistled, and the standing water that drenched her and Talsis drained down their legs, across their feet, and out the nearest porthole. There was not a droplet of water left to wet their hair, skin, or clothes. Cleaning up was a strength of Raimie’s. For many years, she served as the ship’s cabin boy.
__________She had not been the ship’s cabin girl, because she had concealed her femininity, until an unexpected visitor had accidentally exposed her. Or had she accidentally exposed herself? It was difficult to say for sure. Was it her fault that another crewman happened to be sneaking around when she spilled her secret to her adoptive brother, Falis Andrigale? Back then, neither she nor Falis knew they shared a mother.
__________Despite her exposure, she still cut her hair as short as a knight’s page. She still wore men’s clothing, with the exception of her boots. Nowadays, she wore tight-fitting boots, so she could swim more easily in them, and she no longer bound and flattened her chest with bandages.
__________Raimie glanced at the scrying mirror, carefully positioned in the corner of the room, so nothing could ever surprise her. She wondered; Do I still know myself?
__________She tossed unconscious Talsis onto the bed beside her. “Maybe the jarring will shake those loose marbles in your head back into place,” she laughed, “and then I can ask you.”
__________Talsis groaned and slowly opened his eyes. “A whirlwind of a way,” he expressed, “for the Eternal Rain to announce I came home too late.”
__________“Whirlpool,” Raimie corrected.
__________Talsis chuckled. “That’s right… In the water, not above it. Very precise.”
__________“Would be,” Raimie replied, “except we’re sailing topside now.”
__________Talsis hurriedly sat up. “You pulled the ship out of the sea?”
__________“I could tell you and the Eternal Rain were at odds.”
__________Talsis smiled. “She’s offended that Nica and I eloped without her consent.”
__________Raimie sighed. “It was worth it though, wasn’t it?”
__________“Everyday.”
__________Raimie laughed, tossing her head back in the fashion of the ship’s original captain. “Then what—in all the lands and realms—are you doing back on the water?”
__________Talsis frowned. His posture became rigidly still. His gaze dipped to the floor. “My sons,” he explained solemnly. “They’ve gone missing.”
__________Raimie sobered, sat down next to Talsis, and placed a hand upon his shoulder. “Then we really are in the same boat,” she whispered. “Captain Herksun’s missing too.”
* * *
__________Most elves forsook the consumption of meat. Life and magical energy flowed through the veins from the heart and the mind. How could they carve chunks out of the housing for the soul to satiate their stomachs? Their closeness to nature and its creatures soured the taste of meat on their tongues, even though they would never fault a predator for consuming its prey.
__________However, there were certain conditions and peculiar dispositions that favored the hunt. Kimio’s malnourished state was a condition best treated by a heavily carnivorous diet: He needed to put some meat back on his frail bones. Glaiven was one of those more peculiar elves, unabashedly eager to fill Kimio’s doctor’s order. Of course, the hunter also served as the patient’s doctor.
__________Kimio could not be seen until he recovered. Undoubtably, the Dark-elf trainees would not take kindly to the inauguration of an outsider. Kimio would be ambushed and walloped upon arrival. Glaiven needed Kimio to be strong enough to best the bunch, or at the very least, endure them. The military’s spies lurked in the shadows.
__________In Zaliradai, those shadows were constant and everywhere. Glaiven had a task in mind for Kimio, something that could turn the tides of the War of Eternal Divide. Since Glaiven was an experienced player in the Elvish wargame, he stealthily laid out his cards on the battlefield, concealing some and revealing others. He would play each card at its right time, and at Kimio’s expense. The Sea-elf boy would be an excellent bargaining chip, once Glaiven was finished hardening and polishing him. Only at his finest, would Kimio be cast into the lot, and Glaiven’s bet be raised highest.
__________Should Glaiven’s scheme prove as fruitful as the showered apple tree that he envisioned, he alone would bask in its comforting shade, and he would be the first to taste its sweet fruit. Later, when he distributed some of his delicious apples to those above him, and those beneath him, all of Zaliradai would be dependent upon him and indebted to him. Upon the tainted grounds of the realm, where Glaiven nurtured the bloodlust of its newest, sinister soldiers, Glaiven would regularly water the seed of darkness already planted in Kimio’s heart.
* * *
__________Kimio counted six weeks of the order to sleep, followed by the order to rise, before Glaiven released him from his cabin. These were the dismal weeks of Kimio’s slow recovery, abnormal etiquette training, suitable redressing, and hand-to-hand sparring with Glaiven. All this healing and studying dragged on, until Glaiven dragged Kimio to the Dark elves’ training encampment. Uuinora had tended to Kimio’s needs, but she had disappeared once Kimio could stand on his own two feet again. Kimio couldn’t be sure whether career, contract, or captivity detained her, but he was sure Glaiven had a hand in her disappearance.
__________To the Zalirkatheermor, etiquette meant something very different from table manners. It meant daily dueling with words to prevent regularly dueling with swords. It meant staying out of trouble with your superiors, as equally as it meant raising hell and tormenting your foes. It was a paradox of simplicities and complexities, thrown into an ironclad bowl, and served as a hearty soup, which was—more often than not—poisoned. Kimio learned quickly that Glaiven was a very proper and polite Zalirkatheer, by the natives’ standards.
__________When Glaiven finally opened the cabin door, he extended an arm, and gestured for Kimio to step out. Once Kimio stepped through the doorway, Glaiven extended a foot. Kimio tripped. Halfway between the doorstep and the moist, black soil, Kimio maneuvered into a handstand. His palms smacked into the soil and sank a few inches into the mulch.
__________Glaiven chuckled. “Back inside, you—”
__________Glaiven’s order was cut short when Kimio swung his legs. Kimio kicked Glaiven in the gut, slammed the Dark-elf commander into the soil, and flipped right-side-up.
__________He stomped on Glaiven’s ribcage and glared wildly. “Not today,” Kimio warned. “Never again.”
__________Glaiven smirked. That’s it: Sink a little deeper into the Shade.
__________Glaiven grabbed Kimio by the ankles, threw him down beside him, and then somersaulted to a stand.
__________“By no means, should you ever let anyone stand in your way,” he reinforced.
__________Kimio stood, shoved Glaiven aside, and marched to the carriage. He yanked the door open, stepped inside, and slammed the door shut. “Then stop holding me up,” he demanded. “In the cabin, out here, or anywhere else!”
__________“Very well,” Glaiven replied, as he climbed into the driver’s seat of his carriage. “I’m not your crutch.”
__________The wind whistled, and Glaiven echoed it. The horses tramped to the tune. The trees swayed, and their branches creaked. Frightened awake by the noise of the branches and the chill of the wind, dozens of bats flapped their leathery wings and flew into the ceaseless nightscape. They forsook their homely perches and cried out in the borderless darkness, as if they could echolocate a safe haven somewhere in its expanse.
__________Your refuge doesn’t exist, Kimio lamented. Not here.
__________He closed his eyes and recalled the warmth of his mother’s embrace. Nica’s internal flame tap-danced to her heartbeat. If Kimio pressed an ear to her chest, he heard the rhythm and felt the heat of the flickering flame. The last time he heard it was the day of the housefire:
__________Talsis dragged Fruyr away. Kimio followed his mother into a separate room. The window was open. A breeze ruffled a sheer, bluish curtain. Kimio’s gaze dipped to his feet. Nica held his hand. Irritated, she gripped it too tightly, as if to say: “Here we go again.”
__________She guided Kimio to a chair. Once he was seated, Nica accusatorily pointed across the room, to the empty space atop her nightstand, where normally her jewelry box resided.
__________“I didn’t take it,” Kimio defended.
__________Nica sighed. “No,” she replied. “What you did was worse.”
__________Kimio frowned and sniffled. “We weren’t trying to hurt him.”
__________“You took that piglet away from his mother and siblings,” Nica countered, “and you scared it half to death.”
__________“We were going to put him back when we were done,” Kimio interrupted. “We just wanted to see—”
__________Nica cut through Kimio’s defense with a wave of her hand. “If someone stole you away from me, your father, and your twin brother, how would you have felt?”
__________Kimio shifted uncomfortably, tapping the toes-ends of his sandals together. “Hurt and scared and… Angry.”
__________“And, when they finished with you, if they gave you back to us, would that undo all the pain, fear, and rage you felt from being taken away?”
__________“No,” Kimio admitted. Beneath the force of the shame that his mother’s words laid upon him, his fragile heart buckled, and he burst into tears. He pleaded, “I really am sorry, Mom.”
__________Nica was silent. Her piercing glare conveyed her disappointment and skepticism: Was her son truly sorry? Did he understand the severity of his crime?
__________Kimio sobbed, like an elf-child half his age. “I didn’t mean to make him feel so bad.”
__________That was close enough; not much more could be expected of her preteen son. So, Nica dropped her glare. She hugged Kimio, squeezed him tightly against her chest, and rested her cheek atop his scalp. “I know, Little One,” she cooed. “I know.”
__________Kimio cried openly, against the warmth and music of Nica’s ever-burning heart. He regretted wrangling and branding the piglet. It had been a lesson in the cruelty of curiosity, one that he was certain never to forget. But then, he wrinkled his nose. Suddenly, he smelled smoke. Since when did his mother’s internal flame smoke like a campfire?
__________His tears dried prematurely. He straightened rigidly against Nica’s embrace.
__________Nica released him. Her gaze darted to the window. “Kimio, get out!” she ordered. “Run!”
__________Kimio jumped to his feet, knocked over his chair, and vaulted over the windowsill. His palms and knees smacked against the wet soil, left imprints, which, later, Fruyr traced to Uuinora’s chopping block. For Kimio and Fruyr, this had been the untimely death of the comforts of home.
__________Decades ago, when Kimio and Fruyr were small, they would each climb into their mother’s lap, lie there, and listen, until it lulled them to sleep. There was nothing alike it in Zaliradai. Now, Kimio pitied the bats, for chasing a dream that could never be.
Endlesslore 