Ariiaya
The sense of foreboding over their next destination left Arii in a sombre mood, and what little words graced her usually quick mouth were as sour as a ripe lemon. Krepth practically dragged her into the township as the sky faded to the periwinkle and orange of late afternoon, claiming a distraction was needed. They followed the thick cobblestone roads to busy alleyways, mingling amongst the gruff townspeople in markets and shops. In every structure, every stone, every weaved piece of fabric, Arii saw the blood, sweat and tears of hard work.
This place was so different to Viridya. The architecture was weathered from cold, yet robust with a rugged beauty in its grey stone, whereas the Viridya township was all carefully kept archways and painted walls accentuated with gold. Erstonia was a place of labour, every day a battle against mother nature, where Viridya sunned itself under mostly mild, blue skied days.
The harshness of the southern continent showed in the people here, too. The residents in themselves were gruff, hard and standoffish, but Arii saw the way they interacted with one another – here and during her time in the town inn. Southern people were all about loyalty, bravery and fierce friendships. Trust was hard to earn, but ferociously kept. She found she had come to enjoy their few words, their strong liquor and their hearty, thundering tavern songs. Those who accepted her coin in the market were wary yet respectful, too.
It did not take them long to fill their canvas bags with supplies.
Krepth’s distraction worked, and she thanked her friend as they headed back to the castle with bags full of bread, cheese and dried meats. Krepth’s only reply was a smile, but in that smile she saw heavy, unspoken words. Nem’s near death had done something to Krepth. He was still his sly, cocky, witty self, but there was something different about him that she could not quite place, a delicate wariness in his forest green eyes that was not there before. This had been a distraction for him too.
He hid it well, for none of the others seemed to notice.
Prince Jero and Thogan promised Arii and her party as many supplies as they could carry and made good on that promise as the group armed themselves in the dawning light of the eighth and final day of residing in Erstonia. They even gave up two southern Fjord horses, claiming they would carry most of their provisions and speed up their trek to The Wastes.
The air about the group was positive and light as they prepared their farewells at the gates they had entered through seven days before, clasping arms and exchanging brief embraces with those they had come to call friends.
Elijah clapped hands with the Princes, his face creased with genuine gratitude as Arii watched on nearby, leaning against a stone wall accompanied by Nem. Despite the buzz of nervous excitement to be moving on, Arii could not shake a heavy pit of dread in the depths of her stomach. The Wastes were akin to a nightmare, and the words of the wraith still plagued her mind – even though the woman’s claws of telepathy seemed to have been removed, for now.
‘They will all die.’
The words of the wraith echoed in her memory, chilling her bones. She did not want to agree with the words of foreboding, but she had to admit that the odds were heavily against them at this time.
“You have the face of a slapped arse, little Fury.”
Arii’s attention was snatched to Krepth, his head tilted, and eyes narrowed in suspicion. She pursed her lips and muttered at him, “That’s a strange expression.”
“Oh yeah! I see it!” chuckled Tikkani as Krepth passed and flicked Arii’s nose, heading to join the others. His face hinted at humour – but his eyes promised they would speak later.
She could not hide anything from him, nosey bastard.
After lengthy farewells to the Princes and their guide, Aaron, the crew began their descent from the snow peaked mountains, down into the slowly flattening plains of ivory white. By the time the stone city faded at their backs, the sun had drifted behind the mountains, and Arii found her trepidation growing with each step forward, her anxiety a darkening cloud that remained right behind her eyes as a slowly growing headache.
After a few days trek, they approached the outskirts of The Wastes. Snowy peaks thinned to hilly fields and red tinged dirt with drying grass crunched beneath their boots. The change was swift, as if stepping through a doorway to a completely different land. Rolling fields of green teeming with livestock were now reduced to an inhabitable wasteland. The ground shimmered underfoot, as if tiny specks of fire littered the dust, giving it a crimson tinge. During the day the distance glittered like embers, and as mid-afternoon fell, the dipping sun reflected upon the earth like tiny fiery stars. A barren wasteland of red with the curtain cloud of an oncoming storm upon the horizon. Only that cloud did not advance upon them, it stayed where it was, a barrier housing horror within.
Some would call it beautiful – but Arii knew the cause of this particular beauty was death.
Arii signalled the group to pause upon a small hillock not far from a colossal wall of mist. The mist was a thick blanket, a curtain as high as the eye could see as. It swam like oil on the top of a tainted lake – a haunted kaleidoscope of drab colours that pulsed as if it were alive. Beyond the curtain, thunder rumbled ominously.
“We cannot take the horses beyond this point. Relieve them of their bridles and set them free – they will know the way home,” said Elijah, his grey eyes surveying the wall.
“Is it true what they say about this place, Arii?” whispered Tikkani, rubbing at her arms as if she felt a chill, her throat working. “That it’s haunted by those who fell here in the great battle?”
Many sets of eyes turned her way as she pulled the saddle from her horse and rested it upon the discarded pile. “That, and much worse…”
“And we have to go… through it? Can we not go around it?” voiced Quinn as he stood by Tikkani’s side.
Arii noticed their hands meet, their fingers lacing together and squeezing.
Finally.
The two had been noticeably harbouring a mutual attraction for some time, and it warmed her heart that they had finally admitted their feelings to one another. But, it also added to her growing disquiet.
“Should have stayed on the boat…” murmured Gunner, to which Lyda nodded in acquiescence. The pirates had been uncharacteristically quiet during the journey from Erstonia, and Arii could spy their discomfort from being so far from the sea.
“Going around will add days to our journey. If we go through, it will cut it down to just two days.” Krepth said, moving ahead of their crew. “Every day that passes allows Valdis another day to gather bodies into his army. We must get to Ayrith, and we must get there are as quickly as possible.”
Arii nodded, swallowing audibly as her gaze danced over them all. “I wish it were not so.”
Elijah spoke from beside her, dark hair dancing on a breeze that did not shift the mist wall beyond them, “It isn’t too late to turn back. You do not need to come too. You can all go around and make your way to Colkirk. When I have Kadec’s support I will send word.”
“We can’t leave you.” voiced Nem, arms crossed.
Arii shifted on her feet as she lifted her chin in agreeance, “Elijah is right, you should all go to Colkirk, we will–”
“Everyone – that includes you, Ariiaya.”
Elijah’s tone brokered no negotiation, and the group fell silent as tension crackled upon the dry air in the wake of his words.
Arii’s voice was the snap of a whip as she snarled. “What?”
Each member of their party chose that moment to find something else to do.
Elijah crossed his arms, planting his feet in preparation for their argument, knowing exactly how this order would be received. Like a crossbow bolt to the head, it would not end well.
“You cannot pass through The Wastes on your own, Elijah.”
“What could possibly stop me but a few ghosts?”
Arii blinked incredulously, so dumbstruck at his words that for a moment she forgot her anger. “Do you have any idea how idiotic you sound right now? You do not know what is in there! Hardly anyone does.”
His brows drew at her condescending tone and his jaw slid forward in a stubborn look she knew all too well. “I have my magic.”
“Magic which you are still learning to control.”
“I will be fine.”
“You will be dead, Elijah.”
They stared each other down, both harbouring stubborn sets of jaw and narrowed eyes.
Elijah moved first, taking her hand in his. He was silent for a time, and she let the contact of their skin – the familiarity of it – anchor her and chase away her anger. His hand lifted to her cheek, brushing a honey-tipped strand behind her delicately pointed ear. “You’ve always had the most faith in me, Arii. Do not let that fade now.”
Her gaze surveyed the blanket of pulsing, shuddering mist over his shoulder, her throat feeling dry as she forced a swallow. “I can’t let you go in there alone. You’re powerful, Elijah, but even you cannot face that alone.”
When her eyes met his once more, her fingers drifted up and twined with his upon her cheek. She pressed a kiss to his callused palm, a rare display of affection, and her eyes were unblinking as she whispered fiercely, “Where you go, I go also.”
Elijah’s lips parted, a tiny hint of his canines flashing with his resigned smile. “I should know better than to tell you what to do.”
Her answering smirk held a promise only to him.
“And where Arii goes, we go too,” came Tikkani’s voice from behind, and Arii turned to see the group now standing with chins raised and fire in their eyes.
“We have come too far to part ways now,” added Emerson, his voice holding a slight tremor despite his bold expression.
“We are like a rancid smell – no matter how many times you wash and spank your clothes against the rocks, we will remain!” threw in Valerie helpfully, her smirk widening from ear to ear.
Krepth chuckled, “Valerie is right, you cannot get rid of us that easily, little Fury.”
Hands remaining firmly in grip with Elijah, not caring that the affection was on display for their group to see, Arii turned to them all and nodded. “Together then.”
Lifting her chin and inhaling a deep breath, Arii turned towards the wall of mist, hoisting her pack and straightening her spine as she took a step forward.
And was swallowed by a cloud of murky white.
Elijah
It was as if they had stepped foot into another world.
Soft, loamy moss squelched underfoot, the complete opposite to the dry dirt they had just left. Fog lingered just before their noses, making visibility incredibly difficult as the group hesitantly made their way deeper into the abyss.
“Tread slowly,” came Arii’s voice from the head of their party, her eyes narrowed as she lifted a hand to swat ahead – tendrils of thick, inky mist dancing around her fingers. Above, the last rays of sun attempted to break through from the world outside, yet the dying amber light offered no help to their hindered vision.
This place – it was unlike anything Elijah had ever seen before.
From behind there was a splash and a curse, and everyone turned back to see Tikkani kicking a sodden boot. Using Quinn’s shoulder, she pulled off her shoe, tipping it upside down to rid it of the water from the deep puddle she had just stepped in.
Everyone gasped, and Elijah heard a few very unsavoury words utter from Lyda’s lips – words he hoped Tikkani had not heard.
The water was red.
Blood red.
“What the f–”
“Tikkani, get away from the water’s edge!” Arii warned.
As their eyes adjusted to the sight, the mist upon the water’s edge danced apart, revealing a shallow pool. Slowly, more pools began to emerge – fog lapping across the crimson marshes as if in a caress.
Tikkani squealed and pushed upon Quinn, who stumbled as his arms flew around the girl. Tikkani pointed at the pool as if it had uttered a curse upon her entire family. “Is that… is that blood?!”
Elijah had heard legends of the marshes within the mist of The Wastes – legends that the plains of grass had festered into marshes of dank pools, formed where bodies had fallen. Those legends, though, had never mentioned that they were filled with blood, instead of bog water.
As Arii nodded in confirmation, unable to voice the words, Tikkani’s hand flew to her mouth as she gagged. Elijah felt not far from mirroring the girl’s disgust, his gaze trailing over the scattered pools of red that the mist revealed.
“Blood, why does it always have to be blood?”
“Blood trees, blood marshes… what is next, blood rain?” whispered Quinn, stroking Tikkani’s hair as Emerson leaned over to carefully survey the rippling red pool.
“Don’t speak too soon,” he said to Quinn, watching the thick pool ripple, “Bad things come in threes after all.”
“You really believe tha’?” said Gunner, wiping his brow with his sleeve, the material coming away damp with perspiration. “Gods, is it just me or is it hot in ‘ere?” The man was not wrong – the air was warming the further they ventured, as if the mist retained the heat from the day outside. Elijah had no doubt if the day was warm, the nights would be freezing.
Tikkani’s disgust echoed about them as they continued on, picking their footfalls with care. The air was acrid, thick with the stench of death and decay that only became worse the further they travelled. Elijah stole a quick glance over their crew, before resting his eyes upon Arii at the head. As they travelled further into the mist, he had noticed she had begun to bite her nails and pick the skin around the cuticles – a nervous habit he had never seen her display before.
As time slithered on, the others began to show small signs of anxiety too. Luc scratched at his arms, Nem wiped her hands down her thighs as if her palms sweated, Tikkani wrung her hair around her palm and tugged at the ends, and Valerie swatted around her head as if invisible flies assaulted her ears. Emerson rubbed at his neck nervously, Krepth scratched at his scalp as if he had fleas, Lyda kept glancing over her shoulder as if something were tailing them and Gunner wiped the sweat from his brow over and over, the skin reddening with the beginnings of a rash. Each member had a small twitch that had the hairs rising on Elijah’s arms.
Everyone seemed affected, except for him.
As the world around them began to darken, Arii gave the signal to stop for the night.
“Light a fire, we will rest here.”
They all looked exhausted and uneasy.
After gathering as much damp kindling as possible from the mossy banks, Nem knelt by the gathered wood and lit the fire with a snap of magic, hooded eyes reflecting the flames as they engulfed the tinder. As the group settled down for the night, the mist seemed to come alive – tendrils of darkness dancing and skimming the surfaces of the pools like invisible fireflies.
Dank grey turned to black, and the pools began to emit an eerie red glow from within, as if dull fires simmered below the surface. Had they not been surrounded by astringent fog and lagoons of curdling blood, Elijah would have thought the sight eerily beautiful.
Words had become scarce among the group, and even Quinn, prone to word vomit, was uncharacteristically silent. Their eyes watched the flames, skin waxen in the firelight from the strange humidity of the day. As time passed, the air cooled, and everyone moved closer to the fire for warmth.
After what felt like an hour of pure silence, Gunner was the first to break the group’s reverie with a loud, obnoxious sneeze. “Sorry…” he muttered, passing a hand over his mouth before wiping at his nose. “Canno’ say my nose agrees with the sudden change in temperature.”
Krepth handed the man a clean rag as he said, “Get some rest, all of you.”
Elijah could not agree more. Fatigue weighed heavily on his own bones, and he could see that each member of their crew felt the same way. Even without looking at her, he knew Arii was staring unblinking into the flames, ghosts of memory dancing in the depths of her glazed eyes. They all needed to rest and take shelter in sleep where the abnormality of their surrounds could not follow.
“I’ll stand guard first,” he said, keeping his voice low. Arii shifted in protest, as he knew she would, and he raised her hand in his. The motion had her words clearly dying in her throat as he brought her attention to her chewed nails, the skin around her cuticles, ripped and already scabbing. “Allow me to watch over you this time. You have been ripping at your nails since we crossed into The Wastes and it does not take a magician to see the mist is affecting you. You are exhausted – and so are they.” He motioned his chin to the wary group.
Arii’s tired violet eyes assessed their weary companions. They had travelled distances far greater than this, but there was something about this place that sapped everything far quicker than before. Swallowing, she nodded before sighing. “We’ll take turns,” she said firmly, and he knew there was no use arguing, so he nodded back.
They settled as comfortably as they could on the muddy floor for the night, and Elijah assumed a slightly raised position to keep a better check on their comrades. He watched over them all until gentle snores filled the air. Elijah allowed the eerie sound of crickets to mingle with sounds of sleep, ushering in a gentle sense of amity.
Despite the peace, Elijah felt the hairs on the back of his neck would not ease. Thunder rolled in the distance, the sound causing little prickles of unease to caress his skin. To distract himself, he watched Arii’s shoulder rise and fall, her back to him as she slept a few feet away. Even this couldn’t take away the sense of impending doom as the distant rumbles sounded like a death knell on the stagnant air.
Tikkani’s ear-piercing shriek split the air.
Elijah was on his feet instantly, as the girl knelt on the soggy ground, hands clutching at the dirt, wailing, “Emerson? NO, NO, NO! You can’t possibly be dead. It can’t be!”
Before Elijah could question the empty space in front of Tikkani, her brother writhed on the ground nearby, clutching at his throat and heaving as if he could not draw in a breath.
Drowning... he appeared to be drowning.
More screams filled the air, and Elijah spun around to see Nem, Krepth, and Luc – all clutching their skulls and writhing in the dirt, alongside Valerie, Gunner, and Lyda.
Elijah whirled, eyes widening as his gaze lifted to the mist beyond them, the air backlit by lightning strikes in the gloom.
Thrum.
The storm beyond the mist seemed closer now, the cloud pulsing and shuddering. Elijah blinked, his boots fixed to the spot as his heart crashed against his ribs, uttering a low curse as shadows moved in blood-tinged light.
Thrum.
Silhouettes danced in the dust, the outlines of people, limbs flailing as they clashed. Men’s cries accompanied the crashing of swords and shields, and the stench of blood assaulted his senses, dragging haunting memories to the surface. Memories of times he would much rather forget.
He concentrated instead on conjuring a plan, his attention darting back to his friends.
One was absent, though.
As he searched for her, Elijah whirled, his glowing pewter eyes darting across the moss and dirt, his heart pounding like a war drum within his chest.
Ariiaya. Where was Ariiaya?
He did not have to look long.
She appeared out of nowhere, like a wraith of hell from the swirling mist, her eyes twin orbs of violent red, all trace of amethyst gone.
Blood red like the pools around them.
Her lips revealed a sinister crescent moon as she smirked.
And plunged a dagger into his stomach.
Her aim was incredible. The blade slid between the armour of his leathers, lodging firmly in the side of his abdomen. Elijah cried out in shock. Mist eked from Arii’s mouth as if she were a moment away from breathing fire, a malevolent laugh rolling from her tongue.
Mist. It was the godsdamned mist.
He did not have time to ponder what calamity had befallen his friends. Arii’s second dagger speared towards his chest – his heart – and he barely avoided it before it snapped past his cheek, searing a line of blood as skin broke.
Her movements were uncanny, abnormally quick, like a snake’s strikes.
This was Arii unbound. This was Arii with the intent to kill.
Elijah reacted quickly, slamming a hand against her arm as it flew down in an arch towards his chest once more.
“Arii!” he barked – but his voice fell upon deaf ears.
Her actions were a blur, a whirlwind of steel with no holds barred. With each dodge, each parry, he went on the defensive, barely avoiding her attacks as she sliced and speared her dagger through the misty air around them.
To the chorus of tormented screams from their friends, he repeatedly yelled her name. Over and over, determined to get through to her some way, somehow.
“Arii! It is the mist – fight it!”
His only response was an angry scream. She was obsessed, murderous – bursting at the seams with untapped rage, blinded by the mist’s influence. Her eyes flashed like crimson jewels as she inhaled the thick mist. Elijah yanked his sword from its scabbard to deflect her downward arc once more, the loud clang of metal clashing as sparks flew. His sword halted her attack and she clutched the hilt of the dagger with both hands, pushing.
“Monster. I’m a monster, and I didn’t have a choice. They called it justice, but I recognised it for what it was: murder.” Arii’s voice resonated as their weapons shook, his muscles bunching as she continued to push her blade down towards his face. His gaze snapped from the tip of the dagger to the twist of her beautiful, violent features she spoke. “Never think… never feel… never have a choice,” she continued; teeth clenched so tight he was afraid they would shatter in her mouth. “Bottle it up inside and press it down deep. That was what was expected of us.”
“Arii, you know that is not what you truly are! You care! You care deeply, and that is what makes you strong. That is what makes you worthy of the love of those who know you, the true you.”
In answer to his words, Arii let out a pained cry, splaying her fingers out around her weapon and grasping her magic so quickly, so effortlessly, that he did not have time to brace. Elijah’s head snapped back as a phantom punch hammered into his chin and sent him careening, narrowly avoiding a collision with Nem as he angled his body to skid along the moss. Arii stalked after him, twisting her blade and rolling her neck as though in pain, all the while speaking in a low, rushed monotone. “I wasn’t strong enough back then… wasn’t strong enough to save her. Weak, weak, weakweakwea–”
Her?
The mist was bringing forth their deepest insecurities, and demons of the past. Arii was rambling now, her words becoming swift and incoherent.
Stars flashed before his eyes and pain sizzled along his jaw, and Elijah did not have long to ponder her words. He jumped to his feet as Arii rushed to meet him. He drew an orb of magic from his pool of power and punched it into his palms. With a cry, he threw it at Arii – who deflected the attack as if swatting away a fly.
She truly had been holding back this entire time.
But so had he.
The earth shuddered beneath their feet, and Elijah resisted as the mist slid across his skin and prodded at his lips. He breathed it in but refused to let it take hold as he reached deep within himself.
And grasped chaos.
Arii stumbled in pursuit as fissures split the ground around them, slowing her advance. Elijah braced himself for the nausea that followed this particular use of his magic, letting the chaos envelope him completely. He vanished and reappeared directly before her in the blink of an eye, static crackling in his wake as he wrenched the remaining dagger from her grip, planted his hands either side of her head, and drew her lips to his in a brutal, forceful kiss. Her enraged screech was muffled by his mouth as her hands scrabbled at his biceps, chest, and neck, and when he didn’t back down, her fists began pummelling into his guts.
Elijah took the blows, felt the pain, and focused solely on her, dedicated to bringing her back to him by any means necessary. He could not think of any other way.
There was foul death magic within the mist – magic that entered the mind and played tricks behind their eyes. For whatever reason it did not affect him, an absolute blessing he would question later.
“Come back to me,” he said against her lips as a breeze blew around them, tearing at the dust. The mist resisted, clinging to their skin and clothes as the unnatural, sudden wind spread to their companions.
“Please, come back to me,” he begged again, his eyes squeezing shut as her punches to his stomach continued. Her hand curled around the hilt of the dagger, which was still firmly lodged in his side, twisting it. Blinding pain seared his blood, and he groaned into her mouth in agony.
Still, he did not let go.
He wouldn’t. He… couldn’t.
Her protests lessened slightly as the wind chased away the mist. He chanced one tentative hand to her cheek, the other to her waist as he drew her closer, tears burning behind his eyes as he whispered, “Return to me, love.”
A low, heartbreaking sob broke from her.
She shivered, and he felt her arms drop from her attack on his body and rise to cup his face, fingers slipping into his hair as her stubborn lips softened. She sucked a sharp breath into her lungs, free of the haunting mist, and made a sound of agony and soul-tearing remorse. “I… I tried to kill you. Elijah, I am so sorry.”
Their friends began to shake themselves free of the dark magic around them, inhaling air cleaned by the strange breeze, and slowly rising to their feet.
Before Elijah could speak, a wail sounded from behind them, and they both turned to see Lyda, hovering over Gunner with her hands covering her mouth.
Those hands were covered in blood as a knife protruded from the man’s still chest.
Ariiaya
“Gunner! Oh, Gunner, no! No, No, No. I… I didn’t know what I was doing. I-I thought he was someone else. The mist! It showed me nightmares! Oh gods!” Lyda’s voice grew more frantic with each word, her eyes wild as she clutched the dead man’s blood-splattered tunic.
Shock punched at Arii’s stomach at the sight.
Shaking himself off quicker than the others, Krepth dove for the woman as she began to wail, her cries echoing about the foggy clearing as he pulled her into an embrace while Valerie knelt beside her fallen comrade. The captain passed a hand over Gunner’s open, lifeless eyes to shut them as she swallowed back her own grief. “Go now, my friend. Pass through the veil of midnight and onto the endless seas of the Beyond. May you find peace amongst the sea of stars.”
Slowly, the others joined them. Tikkani wiped at her eyes and pressed her face into Quinn’s chest, while Emerson and Luc linked hands in sorrow.
Anguish heavied Arii’s shoulders.
This was no-one’s fault but her own.
“You should probably tend to your wounds, Elijah,” said Nem from beside her, bringing Arii’s attention back as Elijah stumbled to his knees with a pained groan.
Panic flared alongside immense anguish at what she had done, and Arii fell to her knees before him, eager to right the wrong. “Let me heal you.”
He did not protest as she helped him remove his leathers and tunic, stealing a swift glance at Nem as the silver haired Fury said, “I’ll continue your spell to keep the mist away, Elijah. Save your strength now.”
Arii had not even realised he was keeping the mist away until Nem pointed it out. There was a good few lengths of space between them and the thick mist now, the air thinner and easier to take in.
Saving her words, Arii swallowed back a bright and colourful curse at her dagger protruding from the lower quadrant of Elijah’s stomach. Blood oozed, and she cursed again internally at the further pain she was about to cause him.
“Just do it,” he growled through gritted teeth, and so she yanked the dagger from his body without further delay. She set to work quickly, staunch the flow of blood with her hands as she brought forth healing magic, all the while fighting an inappropriate grin at his very impressive string of uttered curses, ones she had never heard him use before.
She was such a bad influence.
Once Elijah was healed, she cleaned his skin and opened her mouth to apologise again, but his hand grasped hers. “Apologise one more time and I will have to kick your arse.”
“Is that the good kind of arse kicking, Wolfe? Because if that’s the case, then let me remain on my knees.”
“That is wildly inappropriate for our current situation,” he coughed, as Nem subtly shifted away to give them space.
“Hmm, suppose you’re right,” she sighed, sobering swiftly as they moved to their feet – but not before she saw his small smile. She wanted to apologise, again and again for her actions, even though she knew she had been out of her mind from the mist.
Valerie wiped tears away with her hand before rising from her position alongside Gunner. His body had been wrapped in his cloak and fastened with what little rope they had. The captain had insisted they not leave him there to become another grave pool – to which everyone had agreed. She did not blame Lyda for the accident, none of them did.
But Lyda was overcome with grief and guilt, staying close to her friend’s body; ghostly silent, save for her quiet murmurs and tears. Tikkani whispered gentle words of comfort beside her.
“We must keep going,” said Krepth, “Nem can keep the mist away for now but the deeper we go, the more insistent the cursed magic will become.”
Arii nodded, knowing the Shifter was right, and looked at Elijah. “You have not slept yet, can you carry on until we can rest again?”
“I don’t think anyone got any rest. I will be fine, besides, you gifted me with energy as well as healing. I did not know such a thing was possible,” he said.
“You’ve got a lot to learn, Elijah.” This time, Arii’s smile was not mocking. “Magic has the potential to do so much good.”
Elijah didn’t respond right away, instead shifting his gaze to their travel companion’s wrapped body. His voice was so low that she almost missed his words. “And so much evil.”
They didn’t have time to debate the merits of magic. She only hoped that over time Elijah would realise that it wasn’t magic itself that was good or evil, but rather the wielder. In terms of the marshes around them, those who had died here must have done so with anger in their hearts – resulting in the curse of the mist.
The group moved as quickly as they could. Fear remained acrid in the air and the ghosts of what they had seen in the mist danced behind their glassy eyes like secrets. No one spoke about what they had each seen in their realities of pain, and they all agreed that if any of them wanted to talk about it later, they would be welcome to do so.
So far, no one had, and silence had descended. Arii noticed a subtle shift in the group’s demeanour – a sense of division forming that would become detrimental. Gunner’s death was an accident – they all knew it – and she knew how much it affected each of them.
But she was curious as to why the mist didn’t affect Elijah like it did everyone else. She was aware of his powerful magic, but did this provide him with immunity to the curse? When she asked if he saw anything during the incident, he said he saw shadows of a battle inside the mist – as if the curse was lingering just outside his consciousness, but couldn’t get in.
“Elijah may have much to learn about magic, but we have much to learn about him, it seems,” said Nem, and Arii nodded agreement as they trod through the soft, muddy marshland. The world around them began to lighten, and hazy sunlight filtered through the foggy canopy above. As the pools of red lessened and the land hardened beneath their feet, Arii could feel the mood begin to lighten.
When they pressed through the last curtain of thick fog, they felt the tendrils of cursed magic clawing at their skin, as if the mist was reluctant to let them go.
“Thank fuck for that!” gasped Tikkani, falling to her knees and breathing deeply of the clear air. “What an absolutely miserable place!”
Every member of the group nodded as they gulped down mist-free air. Arii cast her gaze over the fields, spying the tips of the Dragon’s Teeth mountains in the far distance.
They were in the north now, and closer to Viridya than she liked to be in the current climate.
“Let’s keep going. Colkirk is a few hours’ trek from here, we can make it before nightfall and rest there.”
“What about Gunner?” said Lyda, her eyes remaining forlorn as she gazed back towards Krepth and Nem – who had offered to carry him the remainder of the way.
“We cannot enter the town with a body in tow – it will frighten the locals,” Arii paused and gazed to the captain. “Valerie?”
The woman sighed, swiping off her hat and pressing it against her chest. “Gunner belongs at sea. Let us cremate him here as quietly as possible so that we can keep his ashes safe. He deserves a pirate’s send-off, cannons and all, once we return to our ship. We will travel the western winds – out to the Boundless Sea and scatter him there. It’s what he would have wanted.”
Arii had no doubt. Sending the man’s spirit out to sea to continue his ventures in unknown lands beyond seemed like the perfect send-off to her. The thought crossed her mind of what she would like, when her time came.
An image of one of Valdis’ undead corpses flashed before her eyes unbidden, and she suddenly decided that she too would prefer to have her remains charred and scattered to the wind, somewhere in the east, she decided. Over a grassy field at sunset – one where she had watched the stars as a child with Krepth, or a starlit pool where they had once skipped rocks near Evergrave. Those options sounded perfect.
“Once we have his ashes, I think it is best Lyda and I send a crow to our crew, and return to our ship.” She gave a small smile. The group was silent, shock at the sudden decision thickening the air. Valerie glanced to Lyda, who nodded sombrely.
“You’re leaving?” said Arii, her voice sounding thin to her own ears.
“As much as we wish to continue on with you all, I think I speak for both of us when I say that we are best used elsewhere.” Valerie turned to Elijah, her hazel eyes clear as her back straightened. “We have witnessed enough now to spread word about your quest, Eliverus. The people of this land need to know what you’re doing, and what it means for them should you succeed.”
The woman lifted a palm, to which Elijah grasped firmly. She continued, “Send us to every port in Fythnar. Let us spark embers in the bellies of all the poor souls who need your hope.” A pause. “It is what Gunner would want, too.”
Arii clasped hands with Lyda, then Valerie, noting their sad smiles. Behind the sorrow, though, she could see determination. “Thank you, for your company, and for your wisdom. It won’t be the same without you – all of you.”
“Don’t worry, little Fury,” Valerie smiled, “Something tells me we will meet again soon.”
After a few more parting words, Arii joined the others as they prepared Gunner’s body.
Saying farewell to their friend was a sombre and swift affair, using magic to screen their funeral pyre from unwanted eyes. The group circled the pyre, each whispering their own eulogy in remembrance of the man.
Valerie and Lyda shared their fondest memories, stories that had the group sharing soft laughter. He was a character of a man, one who Arii knew would be sorely missed.
As soon as it was done, Valerie secured a neatly folded square of cloth into her pack as Krepth spoke with her quietly. The group didn’t dally long with goodbyes, for the pirates promised they would see them all again. Valerie and Lyda headed towards the sea, and as Arii watched their backs, she said, “Right, let’s get going.”