The Blessed City

Lord Brae and the Huntsman arrived at Lord Remus' home in the eastern cliffs of Ungerdon three days after the debacle in the Tri-Bordered City. Lord Brae had reeled every day since. Casting his fury onto any unlucky man and watching until they fainted from the pain. He cared not for the bird nor its master who tended to it after its fall.

Lord Remus' home was not elegant by any common standards. Still, it was a marvel. Tucked away in the dry cliffs of the Sancor river and carved deep into the dry rock to withstand all weather-wrought tragedies. By the hands of dwarves, the cliffs were mined several miles deep and towered seven stories high. Windows existed only on the outside and balconies were tucked behind stone pillars that marked the exterior. Long carpets spread down the halls. Couches, chairs, and furniture lined the inside sporadically. Staircases wrought by hammer and axes cascaded in spirals everywhere.

Much like the uniqueness of his home, Lord Remus' was unlike any other Lord. Known for his soft heart and hard hands, he played no games and tolerated nothing less than perfection. He had space enough to house all his men and their spawn. Every person had food, a bed, and water. No man wanted for naught and everyone earned their keep. Any infraction - stealing, killing, or lying, was punishment by eviction. It was perhaps, in Lord Brae's opinion, the most peaceful region in all of Dianmoore.

They gathered in Lord Remus' throne room. King's Men were clad in milky gold robes and armor. Dressed from head to toe with a scarf to cover their faces from the harsh winds that blew on. A large burly man with hair matted in rolls atop his head kneeled in front of the lord. His arms were bound behind his back, his teeth snarled. Another, scrawny man with shallow cheeks and faded clothing knelt beside him.

Lord Brae listened to their pleas. The details of their snuffle by the river drowning the room. Lord Brae had nearly given up listening altogether when they revealed the most interesting part of their tale.

"The one girl, she was. . ." the burly man trailed off.

"I've never seen anything like her. The wind howled as she commanded it. The air, pelted me and my men as if they were true blades made of steel. Yet our bodies were not penetrated," the other rambled.

"The others, they killed my men-"

"Our men," the skinny one corrected.

"What did they look like?" Lord Brae demanded. He already knew the answer, but needed confirmation. And he got it. "The girl," he urged. "Was it the fiery-haired one or the other?" The skinny man fumbled; the burly man stared blankly. "Well, which one was it?" "Where did they go?"

"Brown," the burly one said at last.

"Where did they go?" the Huntsman inquired.

"South," the burly man squealed when his eyes glowed red.

"We did not see where, though, my lord. The girl, she . . . she-"

"Turned the sky against us. We could not see. We were thrown and our boars, they ran."

"We understand. They got the best of you." Lord Remus stood from his seat. The men snarled at him, rejecting their failings. "Could you take these men to where you lost them, perhaps they can find their way from there?" He looked sheepishly to Lord Brae and the Huntsman.

They agreed.

"Then, you can put your rivalry to bed. I will not have you shedding more blood on my river. Go, be off. Take what you need, Lord Brae. If my men can provide it, it is yours."

The Huntsman took his leave, hoisting the men to their feet and pushing them along. Lord Brae remained behind and waited for the room to clear.

"Is something the matter?" Lord Remus asked.

He followed the lord to the balcony. At its rail, they looked out into the dry river. "You seem all too eager to aid me in this hunt."

"You believe I have a hidden agenda."

"Don't we all?"

"As lords, we were given responsibilities and duties to fulfill our king's desires. If the king desires the girl, then he shall have the girl. Who am I to deny him that?"

"Yet, there is something else lurking beneath that righteousness."

Lord Remus grinned. "A man has a right to his secrets, as long as they don't infringe upon the king's will."

Brae considered the lord, watching him from the corner of his eye. Every lord wanted something. Riches and power are most common. But he could not place Remus' intentions. He had lordship. He had plenty. What more did he desire?

"You should leave at once. I suspect the Huntsman will have gathered all you need by now." Remus' turned to leave and stopped at the door. "Oh, and when you find the girls, do take caution. By the sound of it, she's exactly what he's been looking for."

Lord Brae didn't need the warning; he already knew that what he chased after, the girl the king wanted, was more trouble than a prize.

. . .

The smell of fresh rain clung to the air and Maleah recognized the scent of wet moss. She didn't try to hide her pleasure from the others as they walked through the swamp. When Cam was a ways ahead, Rhys puller her aside.

"Where'd you disappear to last night?"

"I thought you were asleep."

Rhys shrugged. "I was. Then I wasn't. Don't worry, I won't tell Cam of your excursion." When Maleah said nothing, she smiled. "I suspect you had something to do with the rain." Maleah caught her breath, fought to steady it.

Rhys continued. "I had my suspicions you could wield more than one element for some time now. It doesn't take a genius to know there is more to you than you let on."

"I do not have an explanation for it."

"You don't have to. Only the gods know why you've been gifted as so." Rhys waited a moment. "Come, we should fill our skins. I'm sure there is a watering hole nearby."

They caught up to Cam at the lake. At its edge, she could still feel the pulse beating. Signs of vegetation sprung from the wet dirt and she had a sweet feeling that more life would return to the swamp. Heading south, Cam remained remarkably quiet and Rhys grinned with secrets.

The ogres had spread their villages widely. No one slept closer to another in the thick wood. She poked into houses as they passed by witnessing the remains of their lives. Broken chairs and glass lay in shambles around wrecked beds and tables. A doll lay sadly on the pillow of one. She left it behind with the sliver of hope that one day its owner will find it again.

At the end of the tree line, the land dipped and rose in gradual slopes. Maleah didn't need a map to show her where she was. Ilioch was the most beautiful land they had crossed. Green stretched for kilometers mirror the length of the crystal sky. There, they mounted their horses and left the swamp behind them.

In the distance, she saw castle ruins. A heap of large stone lying in shambles atop a hill. Light glinted off the rocks as if beckoning them. The ruins were magnificent. Broken but dazzling. As they approached, she heard the rhythmic sound of the ocean not far from her. The constancy was alluring. Veering towards the cliffs beyond the ruins, she found the Teorian Sea. She took it in. Its waves crashed valiantly against the rock wall and stretched far into the world. Then, she found it.

Standing tall against the sea, the red bowl rose. Her dream came to life in front of her. With sweet songs from the crashing sea and the soft winds of the land. The soft padding of hooves as Rhys and Cam joined her.

"It's stunning," Rhys whispered. Agreeing, Maleah quietly watched the sea as it rocked. Entranced, Maleah didn't notice the men prowling behind them. They were quick. Their ropes wound their way around their bodies like whips and forced them from their horses.

"Argh!" She resisted. But strange hands covered her mouth. She tried to pry the air around her, but her hands were bound. There was magic in the rope. Unlike the borstal, this magic was real. And she felt her gifts dull inside her. Before long they were all subdued and lined up on the grass. Their captors wore shirts sewn in various shades of greens and blues. Their faces were hidden behind hoods.

"Take it all. We'll sort it back at the nest," one of the men commanded. The horses bellowed as the men ransacked their sacks and hauled them off their backs. As they did, their leader stood in front of the three of them and watched idly. She couldn't see his face but knew he was enjoying himself.

One of the ransackers came up to the leader. "That's everything."

The leader didn't take his gaze off of them. "Anything of value?"

"Perhaps," said another, female voice. "I found this on one of their horses." She held up her ganuaim. The bag hanging from her fingers.

He cocked his head, reached for it. "What's this?"

"That doesn't belong to you." Maleah grappled against one of the captors.

"Nor you, I suppose. Leave them. They can find their way back wherever they came." Their captors hollered, shoved them to the ground as they leaped after their leader.

"Sábhille!" Rhys shouted behind her. Her head snapped back. Not once had she heard the name come from Rhys' lips. It sounded ancient on her tongue. The leader stopped in his tracks, pivoted on his heel. Through the slip in his cloak, his eyes narrowed. "Under the shelter of each other, we survive."

One of the hooded people leaned into him, whispered. When they parted, the leader stepped forward, loomed over Rhys. Glowering over her, he called to the others. "Blind them."

The girl stepped forward. Struggling, Maleah waited for them to blindfold them. But darkness spread from the center of her eyes until her vision was gone. Hard hands gripped her arm and pulled her to her feet. Her feet fumbled as they slid onto rocks.

"Watch your step." She recognized the leaders' voice in her ear. Her foot slipped as the ground changed. "I said watch your step," he hissed again. Salt wafted from the sea as they descended the rock stars.

At the bottom, she sunk into the ground. Wobbling, she walked over the shifty sand and through crooked rocks.

This wasn't right, she thought. Atop the cliff, she could hear the ocean beating against the cliff. Now, all sounds of the ocean were muffled as if in the far distance. Piece by piece, she put it together. Her dreams had already shown her the way. And the way led her here.