Maelesea, 2 Weeks Later
Torvola walked along the desolate coast, picking her way through spindly skeletons of dead trees and the field of debris that still carpeted the ground. She gazed up the hill to her destination: The lord’s keep.
Over the last few weeks, people from the surrounding communities began to show up at the lord’s half demolished keep – seeking refuge that he couldn’t offer. Torvola did what she could to help shelter those without a home. She went through the motions of everyday life as most people seemed to be doing, still processing what had happened to them. It had been so long since she had seen death and destruction even remotely close to this scale.
Everyone was afraid.
Their peaceful life had been shattered by the events of the past few weeks. No one dared venture out until the sun had risen high into the sky, every slight tremor of the earth would send everyone running towards the hills. Every night, Torvola would stand watch at her house, hand clenched tightly around the handle of her sword and eyes staring into the blackness. No attack ever came. Whatever had happened seemed to be a one off event. Yet Torvola would still sit until exhaustion would force her to get a few hours of fitful, nightmare laden sleep.
Sometimes she was joined by others who were scared as well. Most times, though, she sat alone.
The only thing worse than the grief and fear was the guilt. It gnawed at her stomach fiercely enough to make her sick, especially when they finally dragged the dead from their temporary graves in the wood. Their cleric had died in the disaster, leaving only her apprentice to perform the final rites to those bodies they had managed to recover. Torvola felt the dirt and blood would never wash from her hands, nor would the soot from the pyres leave her nose.
She looked at every single one of those bodies and realized that she had failed. She had failed in the one duty her father had taught her to prioritize above all else: Protect the people. After the cleric’s apprentice read the final rites, she walked down the rows of pyres, setting them alight one by one. Torvola stood in the field where the pyres burned, and stood vigil long into the night until the final embers went cold.
Marí returned the day after the attack to help with the rebuilding efforts. She did what she could; she helped carry supplies and comforted those who had lost more than just their homes.
A few days later, Torvola had finally buried Saxus. She wrapped him lovingly in her cloak and put him into a shallow grave, and Marí helped her carefully built a cairn atop the grave. Torvola collapsed to her knees and sobbed as Marí hugged her tightly, tears streaming down her own face.
Torvola reached the top of the hill where the half demolished stone tower that was once the keep stood. A few guards, clad in nothing but their tunics and breeches, stood at the entrance.
“I’m here to see Lord Lanim,” Torvola said. She wasn’t sure why she was even announcing herself: Lanim was within eyesight. He at the head of a table, next to him stood Marí — Torvola couldn’t see her face but she seemed tense. Was it because of something she had discovered while in the sea or was it because Lanim barely could understand her sign language?
The guards stepped to the side to allow Torvola to pass before returning to their positions in front of the doorway. Torvola looked back at them and wondered if they really were staying there out of a sense of duty or if it was because it was the only thing left that seemed relatively normal to them. She turned her attention back to the room, trying to clear her thoughts. She joined the two at the table, the morning sun filtered through the holes in the roof and shone brightly on the papers and maps that were scattered there.
“I don’t think there’s been a single town in the region that hasn’t been hit,” Lanim said, “We are … were the biggest town along this stretch of coast. More and more people keep coming here thinking we’re a refuge but we’re in as much trouble as everyone else is.”
He heaved out a sigh and braced himself on the table, “It’s been weeks and we haven’t been able to get word out to anyone. All our ships are sunk or in the middle of the forest, the roads are impassible, and we’re running out of what little supplies we have.”
Marí put her hands up, as if about to say something but Lanim interrupted her before she could, “Tell me what you and your clan have found.”
“A great fracture has opened in the seabed,” Marí signed to Torvola and Lanim, “It’s what caused the tidal wave and likely where your attackers came from.”
“Are you sure?” Lanim asked.
“Sinda saw it with her own eyes,” Marí signed in reply, “Perhaps a hundred of those creatures were in the sea, traveling with the current of the wave.”
“To think they’d have survived a journey like that,” Lanim shook his head.
“The rift is barely half a league off shore. If these ‘Elders’ are as tough as Torvola says they are, a journey like that probably wouldn’t have bothered them too much.”
“Still,” Torvola said, “I’m concerned that they even emerged at all. Whether they could have survived a journey underwater like that, I don’t know. We fought them a few times in the depths of the mines – they were very hard to kill but not impossible.”
She shook her head, “They also weren’t so organized when we fought them underground – more like a pack of feral dogs if that. From what I saw and what we’ve heard from other survivors, this sounds like it was planned.”
“Like an invasion?” Lanim asked sharply, “You mean to say we may see more of these things?”
“I don’t know,” Torvola said, “This could have been a natural event that the Elders took advantage of. Even my people barely know the first thing about them… and we encountered them on a regular basis.”
“Regardless,” Lanim said, “We need to focus on our current situation. We barely have the food and resources to take care of these refugees and more and more are coming in by the day.”
“…We need help from Venera,” Torvola said.
“The Queen?” Lanim asked, “Yes and sooner rather than later.”
“If we can find a navigable path, I can take a party to Iron Bay to meet with Venera,” Torvola said, “I’m familiar with the terrain to our east. Those mountains are difficult to traverse but they’re not the Barrens. We can be through them in a few weeks if the passes have thawed out.”
Lanim looked at her in surprise, “You would go?”
Torvola looked down at the map and the piles of papers on the table, missives and reports from surrounding towns … people needed help. She had to help, right? She didn’t have a choice.
“I would.”
Torvola studied the map closely, wondering which of the roads out of town could be open. They didn’t have many horses or mules available. Would they have to walk? How long would that take? How would they feed themselves? How many people could she take? She couldn’t go alone.
She was so engrossed in the map and her own thoughts that she didn’t notice Marí trying to get her attention. A very loud cough, almost a bark, finally broke Torvola out of her thoughts. Her gaze snapped to Marí and she gave her friend a questioning glance, “What is it?”
Marí’s lips twitched into the slightest of smiles and Torvola’s confusion only deepened. What about this situation could she possibly have to smile about?
“I was trying to tell you,” Marí signed.
A shout went up from one of the guards on lookout. Torvola and Lanim exchanged a look of worry before rushing outside to face whatever threat had befallen them now. Instead of a wave or a horde of Elders … they saw a large ship sailing slowly into harbor. Marí stepped behind them and cleared her throat once more, and Torvola and Lanim turned to stare at her.
“Torvola’s not the only one who speaks to our kind. Isagard found some help.”
***
Captain Brehna, Master of the Sea Walker, was a name that earned its respect along the coast. She stood at about Torvola’s height and had the same, lean build. The resemblance stopped there – her hair was a fiery red and her skin was tan from years on the open seas but still much lighter than Torvola’s. She yelled at her crew as their boats hit the sandy shore.
“I want all those boxes off the ship by sunset. Come on! Get moving you louts!”
“Aye Captain!”
The men and women in the longboats quickly hopped off their own boats and hustled ashore, carrying boxes of supplies with them. Torvola looked around at the survivors gathered on shore to see what the commotion was about. For the first time in weeks she could see actual hope in their eyes.
Brehna picked up a large box and propped it on her shoulder with a grunt. She leapt off the side of the longboat and into the ankle deep water. She strutted ashore and set down the wooden box with a thud.
“We heard your call for aid,” she said to Lanim, “Apologies for not getting here sooner.”
“I’m just glad you came at all,” Lanim said gratefully, “We weren’t sure if anyone knew what had happened along the coast.”
Brehna crossed her arms, “There’s been some chatter – with a disaster like this, word travels faster than you’d think.”
“Not fast enough,” Torvola said, “We need audience with the queen.”
“I can provide you with food and supplies,” Brehna said, “But unfortunately I don’t have the queen stowed in my cargo bay, I don’t think she’d fine the accommodations particularly suited for her tastes.”
Torvola cracked a smile despite herself, “I just need safe passage with a few others to plead our case.”
“That, Lady Torvola, I can help you with. Provided you give me payment in return.”
Lanim looked at Brehna in despair, “Do you not see what surrounds us? We have nothing.”
“I know that,” Brehna said flatly, “Why do you think I detoured off my prosperous trade routes to render your village aid? I’m giving you food and supplies for free that I could have sold. I need to pay my crew, I need to repair my ship, I need food and supplies for all aboard. I can’t pay them with altruism m’lord – I need coin.”
“I can pull my own weight and as much weight as you’ll need me to haul,” Torvola said, “I can pay you in labor.”
Brehna looked Torvola up and down, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly, though she still shook her head, “You’re not understanding me. I don’t need any more crew. I need money.”
“I don’t have much … but I’ll give you all I have left to get safe passage on your ship though,” Torvola said.
Brehna almost looked guilty. Almost.
“Let’s see what you have.”
The bag of coins Torvola placed in Brehna’s hand was depressingly light. Brehna opened the bag and quickly counted them and seemed to be satisfied with the amount. She looked questioningly at the house Torvola lived in, “For Hero of Irozia … you’re not exactly living in the lap of luxury, are you?”
“I’m a humble person,” Torvola shrugged.
“Humble or humiliated?”
“Is that enough to guarantee me a place on your ship or not?”
Brehna put the coins into her belt pocket, “This will do. We will spend another day here to get our supplies off the ship and distributed. Then we’ll go. I’d tell you to pack light but it seems like that won’t be an issue for you.”
Torvola watched her saunter away, only to be stopped by a man and woman who lightly grabbed her sleeve to plead for a place on her ship. After a tense discussion for several minutes she finally nodded and the couple thanked her. She then turned and continued her journey back to her ship. Torvola scowled slightly, sure Brehna needed to pay her crew and get supplies but to demand payment from people at their most vulnerable moment…
She shook her head and followed down the path behind Brehna. They were rebuilding houses in the village and they needed her muscle.
***
All in all, five families were able to pay for passage on Brehna’s ship – two of them were from Maelesea: Helgi and her wife and Jamen and his mother. Jamen’s father had been lost to the disaster.
Or was it an attack? Torvola couldn’t help the feeling of unease that prickled at the back of her neck as she placed a board on the frame of a house. Something had been so off about it.
‘Well of course something felt off,’ she thought rather dismissively. Her village had been wiped off the coastline by a tsunami and then they were attacked by the monsters that had plagued her childhood. Everything about this entire situation was far from normal.
And yet…
She shook her head.
No.
The more she thought of that days event, the more she thought there was a natural explanation for it. There had to be a natural explanation. Earthquakes were not uncommon along the coastline, sure they were small tremors originating from the mountains to their east and not the sea but they were still not unheard of. A rift in the ground could have opened enough for a few of those wayward Elders to make their way up. It wouldn’t take a well organized army to inflict the devastation that they did on a scattered and weak group of refugees.
Every time she thought back to that night she wondered if she could have done anything different. If she should have done anything different. Perhaps if she had anticipated trouble – if not from Elders than from bandits taking advantage of the precarious situation. She should have instituted a stricter watch. She should have fortified their position on the hilltop … somehow.
She took a deep breath and realized she had been hammering at the same nail for several minutes now and the piece of metal was bent and misshapen past any hope of repair. To her left, one of the members of Brehna’s crew was watching her with a curious expression. She shrugged in response and reached into her pouch for another, less damaged nail.
With several sure whacks of the hammer, she got the board in place and moved onto the next piece of lumber. There was no point in thinking about what could have been. She didn’t know there was a threat. No one knew there was a threat. Now people were dead.
And that was that.
She waited to hear Saxus’s whine. Feel him bump up against her right leg to let her know everything was okay.
Her grip on the hammer tightened and she blinked rapidly to keep the tears away. With a huff she turned away from the others and mumbled something about getting water. She walked away from the house with her head bowed.
She didn’t expect to find Marventas where she had run off to for solace. The afternoon was growing old and the sun was low on the horizon. It shined directly into the dark grey eyes of the mage.
He looked haggard, like he had barely eaten or slept since the disaster. After their discovery in the draw, Marventas hadn’t said much beyond a few clipped sentences whenever answering someone’s direct question. He his gaze held a haunting emptiness to it, as if he weren’t in the present but still reliving the events of that morning. He was no longer the brash, confident young man who built a lighthouse on the spit as if taunting the god of the sea themself.
He was hunched over, clutching his knees to his chest as he stared out over the open waters. He barely acknowledged Torvola as she sat down next to him. She knew he was having a rough time, rougher than her even. At least the villagers still liked and respected her. She had seen how they looked at Marventas though – with fear and distrust. Word about his actions had gotten around the village within a day of the attack. Rumors grew and suddenly he wasn’t a desperate man trying to stay alive but a reckless mage who killed dozens in a foolish act. They feared him, despised him, and he didn’t seem to disagree with them.
After several long minutes of silence, he asked, “Are you here to comfort me? To once again tell me it wasn’t my fault?”
“No,” Torvola answered, “Actually I was hoping to find myself alone here.”
He turned his head slightly to look at her.
“You’re not the only one who’s reliving that night,” Torvola said simply.
Marventas unfolded and stretched his legs out in front of him, “You’ve been through situations like this before haven’t you? You’ve … killed people?”
His voice had changed since that night. When he had moved to the town he the affect of an educated city mage, and the accent of a man of the interior. Now he sounded like a northern farmer; she could detect hints of a rough Plains accent in his voice.
‘No longer trying to fool anyone.’
“Yes,” she said, “I’ve dealt with … a lot.”
“Did you ever get over the feeling of guilt?”
The heavy silence that settled between them was all the answer Marventas needed. He drew his knees back up to his chest and buried his face in them, “I keep seeing their faces.”
“I’m sorry,” Torvola said earnestly. She wasn’t sure if she should put her hand on the younger man’s shoulder or not – he looked so lost, so alone. She forgot her own grief as she tried to figure out what to say to him that she hadn’t already, “The guilt is the hardest thing to confront.”
“Don’t run from it,” she continued, “You’ll … just have to figure out how to forgive yourself.”
She couldn’t help but wonder if she was saying that for his sake or her own.
“Don’t run?” Marventas spat out the words as if something bitter was in his mouth, “Didn’t you do the exact same thing?”
‘Yes.’
Torvola realized she had apparently said the wrong thing, “I…”
“Save it. I don’t need your ‘advice’,” Marventas stood up and, with a final glare at Torvola, he stalked off into the dusk.