The Sea & The Stranger
Lady Leila bobbed wildly in the chunky waves. Though the vessel had not been built for the open sea, the dwarf and gnome worked it like they were born seafarers. For the last few days, they had been skirting the Stranded Coast on the western edge of Tarrine. They were headed north toward the dwarven port of Crossdin, a spot populated by peoples from throughout Tarrine where work could always be found, especially among fishing ships. The colder water of the Tandal Sea made it a happy home to many fish species. Crossdin’s location made it the main supplier of fish to both the dwarven city of Galium and the elven city of Loralith.
Coal had used the stars to determine their location, and he had immediately gone to work getting them to the coast. The Lady Leila would not survive a storm in the open sea, so they needed to be close enough to quickly put in to shore should the need arise.
Once the pair of experienced sailors found the coast, they discussed their options and settled on heading north toward Crossdin, where they would find port and hopefully procure some steeds.
They planned to press on to Whitestone by way of the northern road from Galium.
That route gave them the added benefit of spreading the news of the dragon to the dwarven city, which they hoped would join the war efforts against the rising threat. It wasn’t a perfect plan, but it was as good a plan as they could come up with in the situation they had found themselves.
They had no food left and were unsure when they had lost most of it. Whether it was when the orc had blasted them with a concussive potion or if it had been the faeries indulging themselves with whatever goods had still been in the boat, they couldn’t say. Either way, it had been scarce rationing for the last few days, and the whole crew was tired and hungry.
The first couple of days on the sea, there had been a lot of talk as they planned for what was ahead and discussed what they’d already seen. By that point, their bodies had no energy to waste on talking. None of the companions held it against the others. Instead, they let the sea serenade them with its rolling waves and rotated like a machine, each taking turns on the levers. Coal took the more difficult waters with his constitutionally sturdy frame.
Orin looked on at the weary crew. Coal had taken over maneuvering the levers in the choppy waters. The muscles in the dwarf’s arms twitched with whatever energy they had left. Ellaria sat near the post at the front, looking ahead for any rocks on the coast that might surprise them. Ezel looked pitiful, indeed. The little gnome appeared more grey and scrawny than ever. He had taken off his shirt earlier in the heat of the day, revealing more blue-black, runic tattoos. Orin could see the poor gnome’s ribs, as well.
Unable to stand with the intense rocking, Orin crawled to the gnome and placed his hand on Ezel’s tiny shoulder. Ezel opened his eyes and looked up at the human.
“Are you okay, Ezel?”
The gnome responded with a tired smile and signed that he was fine.
“He says he’s fine,” Coal said from the levers.
Orin nodded, patting the small gnome softly and letting him return to his concentrated meditation. Orin guessed the little gnome had learned ways to use magic to heighten concentration and wondered if Ezel was able to shut out his hunger altogether.
“We’re going to have to put into shore soon and hunt or gather some food. How many more days to Crossdin?” Orin asked.
Coal tugged at the bottom of the braid on his beard, calculating his best guess. “Two days. Maybe three in this boat.”
“Maybe three?”
“Maybe. Can’t say for sure. Most of my sailing was on the Gant Sea. All of what I know of this wretched sea comes from maps ... and only maps in my memory.”
Helplessness overwhelmed Orin, as he realized there wasn’t much they could do in their current predicament. He shifted his worries off his stomach and onto the dragon of Drelek.
“I don’t doubt whatever Drelek has planned with the dragon will be moved up now. How could they not after we saw the thing? They know they didn’t kill us. Surely, they’ll want to surprise the Griffin Guard before they know of its existence.”
“Maybe they thought we wouldn’t make it out of Blackmar Forest. And even if we did, the sea should have swallowed our little vessel. We’ve been quite fortunate,” Coal reasoned.
“Fortunate?” Orin blurted, more angrily than he’d meant. “We barely survived a run-in with a gantendril—which I only heard about after the fact. Then our boat was stolen on a faery island where we nearly died. And now we’ve been stuck at sea on a boat that is hardly seaworthy with no food to speak of. At the end of it all, none of this matters if we don’t get to Whitestone!”
“All of this matters,” the dwarf said sternly. “Every bit of it. Think of what we’ve come through already. Let that spark your hope! Our part in this tale is not done, Guardian. That I believe.”
Orin was taken aback by the dwarf’s positive resolve on the matter, and he felt as though his weariness had gotten the better of him in the moment. “I ... I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, lad. It’s the tired shaking you,” Coal’s face revealed a genuine forgiveness and understanding of the ache inside him. “The stars will be out soon. Get some rest. I’ll wake you when the moon is high to take another turn.”
Orin nodded his head in thanks, tried to make himself comfortable against a pack that was still on the boat, and closed his eyes. The waves sang him a lullaby, and the boat rocked him into a deep slumber. Apparently, he was more exhausted than he even realized.
The storm crept in through the night like a silent thief slips through a raised window. Though Coal did not know the Stranded Coast well nor did he know the Tandal Sea, he understood the dangers of being caught in a storm too near the coastal cliffs in such a small vessel.
He’d whistled to Ezel, who had been at the front, eyes a blue blaze in search of well-shrouded rocks in the coastal waters that held the potential to wreck them. Ezel had felt the shift in the waves and the pressure in the air as well. Hidden rocks were no longer their primary concern. At this juncture on the cliff-adorned coast, there was no place to put into shore. They worked the levers together in a hurry, trying desperately to get farther out to sea to avoid being caught in the collision of storm, sea, and cliff—a lethal combination for their small boat and crew.
As the waves increased, the Lady Leila whipped upward onto watery peaks and dropped heavily into rolling valleys, waking the two humans. The storm rushed upon them in a fury of wind and water. The rain drenched them from crazy angles.
“Coal, what can we do?” Ellaria yelled over the noise of the raging deluge.
“Hold on!”
Coal and Ezel continued to work the levers together, but the boat seemed more like a fishing bob with a life of its own in the great swells. The boat rocked awkwardly, sending all of them to their knees in one fell motion. Ezel flicked a sign to Coal with a quick flurry of his hand, and the dwarf agreed.
“Lash us down!” He yelled to the other two, pointing to a wooden box built into the side of the boat where the ropes were kept.
Orin and Ellaria went to work tying themselves in first and then each crawling over to tie on the others. Orin slid on his knees with another great rock while he tried to fasten the rope around the dwarf’s waist. The guardian regrouped quickly and cinched the rope securely, evoking a gasp of discomfort from the dwarf. A little tight maybe, but at least he wouldn’t be launched from the boat. Coal slid as well but never lost grip on the levers.
“I can’t see the coast!” Ellaria yelled, gripping the bow of the vessel, peering out with eyes narrowed by the storm’s fury.
The seasoned seamen exchanged a glance. They both knew the waves were pushing them ever nearer to the boat grinder of rocks and waves. Suddenly, Ezel stopped fighting the levers, and his face contorted. The gnome narrowed his eyes to gaze through the deluge, and after only a moment, he spotted what he had already felt.
A bright light shone through the storm in front of their bow. It was distant, and it disappeared behind rolling waves for brief seconds at a time.
“What is that?” Ellaria asked.
“Maybe a lighthouse!” The dwarf answered the woman, though it came out as more of a question because he was confused as well. “Stroke!”
Orin jumped to it, grabbing one of the levers and finagling it with all his might in rhythm with the dwarf’s cadence. Ezel used his magic to aid them. They maneuvered the levers at an exhausting rate, but even when their muscles were spent, they dug deep, finding reserves from somewhere within. They couldn’t stop. To do so meant certain death, and their mission was too important.
They cut through the waves with slow methodical work, finally reaching the edge of the light beam that beckoned them to safety. Ellaria was the first to see the strange magic at hand. It was as though they entered an invisible tunnel where the water calmed. The storm rain splattered on some unseen shield above them, and the mountainous swells splashed overhead, leaving the Lady Leila untouched. The only drops of water that landed on the boat were those that fell from the soaked crew.
The boat glided along the strange path of calm water from the momentum they had created working the levers. The sound of the raging storm was muffled.
What magic is this? Ellaria thought, though the question had struck every one of them. And then, in the distance closer to the point of the light beam, she saw a silhouette.
“I see ... I see ... a man?”
The silhouetted figure seemed to be walking away from them. Coal pulled at the levers, jolting Orin back into rhythm with him. Though, they now moved easily through the calm water tunnel. The farther they rowed, the farther the figure moved, and the calmer the waters outside the protective barriers became. After a long while, it appeared they had maneuvered outside the storm’s range, and the beam of light vanished.
They frantically looked about, searching for the light or its source, but none could spot it. The Tandal Sea had calmed, and the stars made unstable appearances behind dispersing clouds.
“We need to get back to the coast,” Coal broke the silence.
“But what about that man?” Ellaria asked.
“I don’t think that was a man,” the dwarf tugged at the braid in his beard.
When they turned to the coast, in the distance, they saw a campfire—yet another beacon of light to guide them. Without any discussion, for all of them were spent and none would argue they didn’t need to rest, they pressed on toward the light on the shore. Orin and Ellaria untied everyone’s straps. Coal continued to work the levers, easier as they flowed with the waves, and Ezel watched for hidden rocks in the dark waters.
They came ashore, finding a quiet sandy beach and what appeared to be an old man waving to them from near the fire.
“Come, my friends!” He called to them. “Come and eat.”
As expected, the spent crew of the Lady Leila ate ravenously. For some reason—and they couldn’t figure out if it was their pure exhaustion, their unbridled hunger, or that the old man was a fantastic cook—the fish was the best any of them had ever eaten.
The man ate only a little himself and let the weary crew eat to their filling points. He grabbed a large staff that twisted beautifully at the top. He leaned into the long staff, and the curled top swung around. His kindly eyes watched them with joy as they gobbled the food.
At the sight of the staff, Coal recognized this was no man. The dwarf narrowed his eyes to get a better look at him in the flicker of the firelight. The man had a long grey beard that hung to his stomach. His flowing cloak was muted burgundy with golden accents. Knowing Coal was trying to see his ancient face, he pulled his hood back, not looking directly at the dwarf. His face was creased with smile lines that had grown over an era. When he finally turned toward the dwarf, a half-smile grew across his visage.
When recognition struck him, Coal flopped a limp hand against the little gnome’s shoulder to get his attention. Ezel, mid-bite on another piece of fish, leered at his companion. When he saw the dwarf’s mouth agape, he followed his gaze to the de-hooded man. Ezel’s own mouth fell slack. They had met before.
Though he had shown no sign of magic in their first meeting, he clearly was no man. He was a wizard.
A massive grin spread across Coal’s face as he stuffed another bite into his mouth, crumbs falling into his thick black beard. Ezel could only smile back in defeat. The dwarf had been right all this time. The wizard glanced at the little gnome and gave him a sideways wink.
Finally, Ellaria could eat no more and felt it was time to ask her question. “Was that you out in the storm?”
“It was,” the wizard replied.
“Who are you?”
“I am Enkeli.”
“How did you—”
“He’s a wizard!” Coal butted in, happy to gloat.
“I am.”
“Why did you help us?” Orin asked, not understanding.
The wizard smiled at the question. “It appeared to me that you were being tossed by the wind and waves and that perhaps you needed some direction.”
“More than that! We were going to be drowned,” Ellaria piped.
“Ah, but see,” the wizard took a few steps away from his staff, which stood on its own like a flagpole. “Your part in this tale is not finished.”
“What do you mean?” she pressed.
“You have been given a very special gift. Each of you has.” He waved his arm over the whole group but continued to address her.
Ellaria grabbed at the green stone hanging around her neck, thinking he meant the powers within it. The necklace had proven to be quite the surprise on this journey. She had never noticed anything strange about it before, but since it had roared to life at the Palori Ruins, she had been able to sense its magics and tune into them. Enkeli knelt before her and placed a warm hand over hers, shaking his head.
“Each gift is different, and all are necessary. In the end, it isn’t what your gift is but rather how you use it that matters. Will you give of yourself and serve others with it? Or will it lead you to your own downfall?”
A surprise tear rolled down her cheek. The thought of Merrick’s sacrifice stirred up heartbreak within her again. When Coal had first told her Merrick had stayed behind, she had assumed he’d been lost in the battle. Though she knew her brother to be a capable huntsman, and man in general, he was no guardian of Whitestone. What chance did he stand against orc warriors of Drelek? She had cried heartily on the foggy beach of the faery island before Orin had awoken and their haste had ramped up.
The old wizard’s kindly face crinkled in sympathy, as though he knew what Ellaria was thinking. “Do not give up hope so easily. When things are hardest, it is hope that pushes us onward.”
Tears flowed abundantly from her eyes, for suddenly, she no longer believed her brother to be dead but merely lost. She lifted a hand to her mouth. In her being, though, she knew to trust the wizard’s words and the twinkle in his eye. He wiped the wetness from the side of her face, pushing strands of blazing red hair behind her ear with his warm hand.
He stood and shuffled toward Orin. “Walk with me?” Orin hesitated, seeing Ellaria’s tears, but she nodded her approval and put the guardian into motion.
The two walked in relative silence until they were out of earshot of the group. They curved up a thin trail that led to a higher point above the fire. The sun had still not crested in the east, but the color of the sky looking over the Tandal Sea to the west was already shifting, preparing the stars for hiding. The sound of the waves crashing against the cliffs farther down the coast beat like the heart of the world.
“I have always found the sea to be beautiful,” Orin finally said, unable to remain silent.
“Ah, but you have always seen it from high above, floating through the clouds.”
Orin shrugged. Admittedly, the view from the back of a griffin does give one a particular perspective. And his experience down upon the waves of the sea had been less than serene.
“There is a war coming,” Enkeli said. Orin noticed the gloss that rimmed the old wizard’s eyes. “You will have to be willing to let go of everything you feel you know.”
“What do you mean?”
“You will be where you are needed soon.”
The cryptic answer didn’t satiate Orin’s frustration. “What does that mean?”
Enkeli, holding his beautiful, curved staff in one hand, reached out the other and landed it around Orin’s shoulders comfortingly. “You have lived your life with a singular purpose. You have been focused. You serve without hesitation. While your purpose does not change, the way you play your part will.”
“You speak in riddles, wizard.”
The right corner of Enkeli’s lips shot up, humor creasing his old countenance.
“To speak plainly of the future puts that very future into harm’s way, for time is a delicate thing. Perhaps you would run into the future, hoping to get ahead of it, but merely rewrite it in your own fashion, with every flaw in tow. Or perhaps you would run from it, sending it crashing into oblivion.”
The old wizard turned away from him and gazed over the sea. “No,” he continued. “No, yours is to be present. If you are, when the time comes, you will know the right thing to do.”
“What I know is that the Griffin Guard needs to hear of the dragon. It could reshape the world. You speak of oblivion. The dragon could be the herald!”
“Your journey is far from over, young guardian.”
“Er ... excuse me, Master Enkeli.” The dwarf’s normally gruff voice came in an uncomfortable timbre. “I believe I was called.”
Orin blinked in confusion. He hadn’t heard the wizard call out for him; nonetheless Enkeli replied, “Yes. You answered my call Colahr, son of Onik of clan Carraignyk.”
Having heard the dwarf’s full name uttered by the wizard on the cliffside, Orin studied Coal. He felt a vague familiarity with it, though he could not put his thumb on it.
Coal bowed slightly and responded, “I am at your service.”
“Come close, my friend. Orin returns to the fire presently.”
Enkeli gave him a sideways wink, and Orin assumed the old wizard thought himself rather clever with his wordplay. Though Orin was conflicted inside, he did not linger to ruin his companion’s time with the wizard. Coal gripped the guardian’s hand quickly as he passed. The two exchanged determined glances, and Orin went his way.
When Orin sat down near the fire between the woman and the gnome, Ellaria’s tears had ceased, and both regarded the sea beyond the flickering flames. Ellaria took Orin’s closest hand, squeezing it softly. His eyes slipped from their clasped hands to the woman and then to the gnome on his other side. He reached out and enveloped Ezel’s small hand in his large one.
The three sat for a long time, watching the changing colors of the sky as their world began to rise, and were content in their circumstances. For his part, Orin was mindful of being present.
On the trail above them, Enkeli the wizard addressed their dwarven companion. “You have a much bigger role in this tale than you realize, Clan Prince.”