Chapter V

Path Forward

Annea I

-The price you pay will be beyond reason, little one.-

The silence of the autumn forest accompanied her on the journey. The only traveller besides her was her sword, drawn out and ready. Her arm bled. Scratches aplenty covered it from wrist to shoulder. Not deep, but too many. It hurt. She did not cry. Only rhythmic breaths came from her face. Breaths that followed her steps. Blood that dripped with each step.

By a clearing did she chance upon. The orange leaves covered the woodland floor, near identical to the sky above. In the very middle stood a stone. Atop the stone was laid a small idol. A piece for a chess game. A pawn.

Exhausted, she dropped to the floor and sat next to the stone. She still felt as if they were coming. Still heard their steps in the distance. But she had killed them, right? How could they still chase after her if they were dead?

But she still heard the steps. The leaves cracked and the bushels rustled. A shadow came upon her, tall and armed. The shadow smiled and kneeled before her. It raised its hand and with a gentle palm stroked the top of her hair. “You’ve done well,” the shadow said.

“Can I… go home…?” she spoke with barely a whisper.

“We’ll go home now. The hunger is gone, and we can go back home.”

“Was I… am I a good knight?”

“From now and all days to come, the best knight.”

“Thank you… father.”

Annea woke up screaming as loud as she could. Her sore throat did not allow for it, though. She sat up, holding her bleeding arm. The bandages started to leak and the wound did not close yet. She ripped off another part of the ship sail and wrapped it around her upper arm. Tightly, so that it stopped.

She stood up and walked towards Julius, who rested underneath a makeshift cover. It was a part of the hull, stuck into the sand. Provided enough protection from possible rain. He was in far worse shape than Annea, but alive. His bleeding stopped, but he was yet to wake. The plank that stabbed through his shoulder was next to him, an entire half covered in blood. Hopefully, his arm still worked.

How could he sleep so much? He had spent most of yesterday asleep, and now he was sleeping well into the late morning. Noon was most likely not even an hour away. Annea walked out from the small shelter and onto the beach. A crab skittered near the slow waves. It was decently large, with a red, maybe brown, shell. Food.

She took out her sword and went towards it, piercing it through the middle. It was skewered on the blade now, and she carried it with her. A fire of some sorts was needed. How else would she eat it? Annea stabbed the blade in the sand and left it there with the dead crab still on.

The beach was in front of a cliffside, but there was a small path that led upwards. She saw a number of pine trees up there, so twigs and dried wood were a must. And, as the rose to the top, there truly were a number of branches just laying about besides the trees. It was a nice view from up here, as well. A cliffside forest overlooking a sandy coast.

She started to gather the twigs, leaves and other suitable material, whilst also looking for a flint and some rock. The flint was harder to find. Maybe bashing two rocks together would start a fire, eventually.

“You’re lost, aren’t you? Aren’t you?” a voice said from behind.

Startled, Annea dropped what she was carrying, turned with both fists raised and prepared to fight. Her expression eased when she saw a young girl sitting upon a tree trunk in black robes. She had long brown hair and cute chestnut eyes. Harmless enough, she supposed. “Who are you!?” this did not prevent Annea from yelling out, though she did not mean it.

She put her hand on her chest. “Talye. Sorry for startling you. I didn’t mean it,” she crossed her legs atop the tree trunk. “And you are?”

Annea turned her head left and right, checking if this was some sort of trap. Convinced that it was not, for now, she sighed. “Annea. Where are we?”

“You’re in the land of Anfrel. I’m in the land of Anfrel, too,” she tilted her head. Her eyes fixated upon Annea’s arm. “You were in an accident, weren’t you? Weren’t you?”

“I…” she stopped for a moment, thinking whether she should answer or not. “Our ship hit the rocks down at the beach.”

“That’s terrible! So, so terrible!” she sprang on her feet and quickly sat back down. “But you’re fine. No reason to worry, is there? Is there?”

She stared at the collection of twigs and leaves she had dropped. “I am. But the person with me isn’t.”

She stood up, slowly, and walked towards Annea. She extended her forefinger and touched the left side of Annea’s chest. “My answer!” she proudly shouted out and ran off into the forest.

Annea, unsure how to react, did not close her jaw. Instead, she crouched down and picked up what she dropped. The wood, the leaves, and two stones she would hit until a fire began.

Back on the beach, she made a small clearing in the sand and bunched the twigs and leaves together. Then she started hitting the two rocks against each other. She did not give up, even though it seemed hopeless after the fiftieth hit. An idea then sprang to her head, making her produce an audible aha.

She hurried back towards the shelter. Julius was still out cold, but at least he was still alive. She pulled out her sword from the sand and brought it to the unlit campfire. First, she took off the crab. Then, she hit the sharp edge of the rock with her sword. The third try ignited the leaves below and the fire spread. A brilliant success.

Annea impaled the crab once more and put it over the fire, letting it cook. She had eaten crab twice before, she believed. Both times in Dammrias. River crabs. But how they were prepared was an enigma to her. As long as it was not raw, it would be fine.

After a while passed, and after she cooked the crab on both sides for an extended period of time, she took it off the fire. Shell was hot. Meat was hot, too. Cooked.

She blew air at it so it would cool faster. Then, believing it was cool enough, she cracked it in half with her sword and ate the meat inside. Good enough. She ate half of it and made sure to save the other half for Julius. She went towards the shelter and placed the crab atop Julius’ now dry satchel. She had found it near the rocks. It did not sink to the bottom of the sea, fortunately.

She was still hungry. Maybe putting a trap for the local wildlife was a good idea. A hare, maybe even a deer. And then she would skin it with a sword.

She regretted not taking a knife with her. When she got home, she would get a knife and put it on her thigh. A large knife. For skinning. And starting fires.

But that was for when she got back to Dammrias. How she would get there was the real question. They were in Anfrel now, which was definitely off course from Reinra. Anfrel was north, Reinra was east. The sailing took around the same time, though, considering they got here instead of Reinra.

A ship or by feet. If they went by feet, they would need to cross most of Anfrel before arriving at the Bagh-Na bridge between Anfrel and, coincidentally, Reinra. Though that was the far east of Reinra. Two months by feet. By ship? Half a day.

Where would they get a ship?

Annea heard steps coming from behind. Did Julius wake up? No. Two sets – from the cliff path. She stood up and turned around. She tightened the grip around her sword and pointed it at the two newcomers. A man a green cloak and ginger hair, and another in a black coat and very long hair that was like honey. Eyes like honey, too.

His appearance made her seethe with rage. Why? Why was she so angry? She stared him down, forcing herself not to charge at him.

“You Annea?” the man in the black coat asked.

“Who are you? Don’t come closer, I swear on all that is holy and sacred that I will stab you to death if you do!” she shouted out, standing her ground and driving her heels deeper into the sand.

Unphased, the man scratched his head. “Talye told me you crashed,” he spoke.

“What, who?” the other man asked.

“Talye.”

“I knew it was a trap!” Annea yelled out. “You’re here to rob us, huh!? I’m warning you, there is nothing valuable here! Even so, without anything of value, I will protect it! Go away before I… spin your spine out of your head!”

“Edwin, maybe we should leave,” the ginger spoke. “She seems a bit… lost in the head.”

“We’ve come to help,” the man in gold said. “Lower your sword.”

“And how do you plan to help?” she asked, not lowering her sword.

“Don’t know. But we will.”

“That is very… genuine,” she lowered her sword. She calmed down somewhat. The rage, however, nibbled at her from the distance.

“We have water, and some food. Spirits, too, if you want to dull your pain. They are weak, though, so…”

“The water is fine,” she interrupted the ginger-haired man. “You can leave it on the ground.”

“Maybe you would trust us if we gave you our names? I am Rheinald, and this here is Edwin.”

“Where is Edwin from? Not from here, obviously. Sun isn’t bright enough to give him that sort of tan. Neither is the name from Anfrel. How do I know you aren’t fugitive or bandits?”

“Would bandits offer to help? Look at me, I don’t even have any weapons.”

“No, but he has two swords. Might be that he’s holding your sword, too.”

“They’re mine,” Edwin spoke.

“Whosever they are, keep them where I can see them. Now, what are you two doing here?”

“Travelling to Saarast,” Rheinald said. “Only reason we came here was because Edwin woke me up and told me someone crashed here. We’re more than willing to help, but you’ll have to trust us for that, no?”

“To Saarast?” she thought for a brief moment. “Do you have a ship?”

“A ship? Well, uh…”

“No,” Edwin said. “Not yet.”

“Not yet?” Rheinald asked.

“Are you saying that you will have a ship soon?” asked Annea.

“Maybe.”

She sheathed her sword, compelled not by his words but by his oddly lit eyes. “Let’s say I trust you. You will take us with you?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. Once Julius wakes up, you’ll lead us to that ship,” she slowly backed off towards the makeshift shelter. Edwin threw a flask of water towards her. “Thank you,” she said and retreated underneath the cover. The two remained in the distance, talking.

She opened the flask, smelled it first. Smelt like leather, like the flask. It was half drunk, as well. Probably not poisoned. And if it was, well, she considered herself unlucky in that case. She took a swig, closed it, and placed it down.

Julius was fast asleep. There was, however, one quick way to wake him up. He was well-rested, she was sure of that. Hopefully.

She took off her steel bracer, crouched in front of Julius, and raised her hand. A singular backhand strike on the cheek. The sound of flesh upon flesh, a loud pop.

“Hah, huh, who, wh- nghh!” he turned around, flustered and with eyes wide open. He quickly put his hand on his bandaged shoulder. “Oh, goodness… it appears I am not dead. In great pain, but not dead,” he said, sitting up. His head bobbed up and down. “My dear lady, it would do you well to reveal your wonderful bosom to…”

Another slap on the cheek. “Are you well, my lord?” she asked.

“I am… I am awake! And well,” he groaned. “What happened to me? I remember the ship hitting a number of rocks and… falling into the sea. But why… what happened to my right arm? It hurts like hell.”

“You got stabbed by a plank. It was not deep, though. You should recover, my lord.”

“Seeing as I can move it just fine…” he grunted as he moved it. “…I can see I will be fine. Painful to move, but it moves,” he sighed and sat up straight. “Head hurts, feet hurt, back hurts. And arm. But, as you said, I should recover. Now then, how far are we from Seoltair?”

“Uhm, well…” she looked away. “We’re in Anfrel, my lord.”

“Anfrel? Anfrel. I have never been to Anfrel. The Anfrel with the very large men who do not speak our language? The Anfrel with even larger men who are made out of snow and also do not speak our language? Or the Anfrel with slightly shorter people living in mountain cities?”

She nodded. “We’re at a beach.”

“The beach with the very large men who do not speak our language or…” he looked at two men who just approached the shelter. “Ah, a ginger and a man in a black coat. Neither are very large. The one in the coat is a bit short, actually.”

“This is Julius?” Edwin asked. “He’s awake. We should go now.”

“Allow my lord to get his bearings. He’s just woken up.”

“Annea, my knight, I do not like the look in his eyes. I do not know whether he is bored or angry at us.”

“Tired,” Edwin responded.

“Ah. Tired. Yes, I suppose you do have that slight gleam of tiredness in your eye. Who the hell are you people?”

“Edwin. Rheinald,” he said and pointed at the appropriate persons.

“They’ll help us return to Saarast, my lord.”

“Well, I do suppose going to Reinra is out of the question now. It seems as if another assassin would chance upon our ship if we went there.”

“An assassin? Were you attacked?” Rheinald asked.

“In a way. But the assassin went on the wrong ship and at the wrong targets. It is quite amusing if you think about it. And ignore the fact that it nearly got us killed regardless,” Julius spoke. “So, if you are helping us return to the Fatherlands, am I to assume that you have a ship?”

“We will,” Edwin said.

“Ah, you will? That is good. Fortunate. Convenient,” he looked at the crab on his satchel and grabbed it, eating the meat. He swallowed the meat he bit off. “We will head out once I finish eating.”

Annea stood up. “Will you be able to walk, my lord?”

He gulped down the food in his mouth. “I might be a bit slow, but…”

“I can carry you,” Edwin said.

“I, erm, suppose you can, but…” Julius finished the crab and took a swig of water. He tried to stand but quickly sat back down. “Still hurts. Just wait a moment, let me get adjusted. No need to carry me.”

“Nonsense,” spoke Edwin and firmly grabbed him underneath the legs and back, carrying him in his arms. Both Annea and Rheinald raised their eyebrows.

“If I were a damsel you just rescued, I would no doubt have fallen deeply in love with you. However, I am no damsel. I can appreciate the gesture, and your strong arms, but please put me down,” he said and Edwin obliged. He placed him on his feet. Julius gritted his teeth. “Annea, would you please be a dear and support me while I walk?”

She sighed, grabbed his satchel and put it around her waist, then put his arm around her shoulder. The four of them then departed up the cliff and eastwards.

The trek was not too lengthy. An hour passed, maybe less, maybe more, before they could see the village in the distance. It was decently sized and even had walls of stone. And, as expected of a port village, it was on a coast. It also had piers, supposedly. And boats. Supposedly.

But whether it had either piers or boats was an unknown. If there were people in that village was also a mystery. A singular thing was out of place in this rustic village. A singular ship, larger than any ship Annea had ever seen. It was plated with gold and bore no sails, but it had a flag. Two golden scimitars crossed and a four-pointed crown above them on a field of grey.

“Is that your ship?” Julius asked.

Edwin, who had no significant change in his face, stared ahead. “Seems so,” he said.

“I am not sure whose flag that is. I feel like I have seen it before, but that there is no emblem from Saarast,” Julius said. “Edwin?” The golden-haired person merely shrugged his shoulders.

They entered the village. The ship had, without a doubt, scared the populace off. Or taken them. Coming here was not a smart choice. Annea made sure to keep one hand on her sword.

On the village road overlooking the coast, the group stood. In front of them appeared two people. Uncanny was one word to describe them. One wore a pine cloak and hood that obscured her face, but two blades could be clearly seen on her hips. Blades, as in, just blades. There were no other additions but the curved blades. She wore black leathers, and a black jacket that stopped above her stomach. Underneath it was a white shirt, tucked into the trousers. The other person wore the same outfit, but no hood. He had long black hair, slicked back.

The strange part about their appearance were the eyes. There were no whites, nor were there any pupils. At least Annea could not see them. A bright and burning fire, serene and cruel. His were brown, hers were green.

They were standing there, down on the coast, quietly observing the group of people. The man looked at the woman and told her something in a strange language. Then, from behind them, someone cleared their throat. They quickly turned around to find another person sitting on a rooftop. This one had shaved hair and white eyes.

“Ship,” he pointed towards the golden monstrosity on the coast. “Go.”

“Edwin, are these people friends of yours?” Julius asked.

“No,” he started to draw one of his swords. Annea followed suit.

“Hey, uh, maybe we should leave,” Rheinald said.

Annea turned around to look at the two on the coast. They were still there, but another one was approaching. He had blonde hair, swept back by the wind, and cobalt eyes. His leather had carved in leaves and swirly winds, and he wore an open skirt above his pants, like Annea. He approached them with wide open arms and bowed, his eyes fixated on Julius. “Ahah, and so does the wind of fate rest by my side!” he exclaimed. “That you, dear prince Julius Alneal, was the one to crash upon the land of Anfrel, is a fortune beyond fortunes.”

“Ah, well, seems like the slavers know who I am. An eventful two days, really,” Julius looked at the man and cracked a smile. “Tell you what, you let us go on our merry way and we can forget we ever saw each other.”

“Forgive me, I wasn’t aware I was holding you,” he shook his head. “Let me clear things up, for I am no slaver. I am Kyran Uzaire, Grand Swordsman of Gala, and I am on a grand quest! If you do not believe me, merely ask your father back home, for I was on both his weddings!”

“Weddi-“

“However!” he interrupted Julius. “I am not here to speak of the past, but of the future! You see, I have come to rescue the folk that crashed on the coast, but I have naught reason to do so as they came here, afore me. ‘Tis obvious fate that guided you here, accompanied by a man who wields the key,” he pointed towards Edwin. “You, bearer of the key, long have I sought for one such as you to help me unlock the garden.”

Edwin sheathed his sword and walked forwards. “Take me there,” he said.

“Ah, if ‘twere so simple that I needed but only one key,” he smiled a great smiled and with his arms showed the way towards the ship. “Come, let us board the ship and head towards great Dammrias.”

“Where are the people living here?” Edwin asked.

“Gone long before we had arrived here,” Kyran answered.

Edwin, without averting his gaze, tapped the hilt of his black blade. “Alright,” he said and walked towards the ship.

“The three of you, as well. I would not wish to leave you here in Anfrel as I did come for you in the first place. Come,” he offered his hand.

“We can trust them, Annea,” Julius whispered to her. “The Gala are honourable, and I believe they are friends of my father.”

“As you say, my lord,” she sheathed her sword and helped Julius walk towards the ship. Rheinald followed behind them with a quiet grin.

Each step on board the ship echoed and vibrated. It was a strange feeling on an equally strange ship where everything was unnervingly symmetrical and clean. She saw a stocky man in bronze plates in front of the rudder, the captain it seemed.

Kyran led them into the ship itself, through decorated hallways and to a room with a table and chairs. He had, along the way, shown them their rooms. It was easy to forget they were on a ship and not in a palace while inside. Nothing here fit a ship, yet it was inside one. A better word for this place would be a floating palace, a palace like in Kyrione, with far too many decorations and shiny jewels.

They sat down by the table. Kyran sat at the head’s position. “We will depart very soon. By night, we will arrive in Roddan and proceed on land. The ship is far too large to travel with down the river, so we will hire a carriage to take us to Dammrias. But worry not! In three days’ time, we will be inside the azure walls,” Kyran said.

“And I take it you will want payment for safely delivering us home?” Julius asked.

“Such a thing would be just, no? But I assure you that the payment will not be in gold, but in the form of a favour. I scratch your back, you scratch mine, as you people say. What sort of favour, you may wonder? A simple one, truly. You will help me find three more keys for the garden in High Alattras, and then we will unseal the gate. That is all there is to it.”

“I see…” Julius scratched his chin. “What is this garden, though?”

“A special place. You shall see it with your own eyes once the time comes. And it shall come soon!”

“What’s wrong with your eyes?” Edwin asked.

“Ah, you must mean why they shine as they do. You see, the Gala live in a place you people call Galewood, though there are few woods and only occasional gales. In that place is a large tree alike an oak whence the blood of the Moon itself pours in rivers that run through our great city. Those who are chosen partake in the blood and become greater than before. The glow in our eyes is merely a side effect, or perhaps an augmentation of its own. I would list the many benefits, but I would rather not sound like a village witch selling enhancing plums,” Kyran answered and Edwin nodded. “Now, then, would anyone like a drink?” without anyone having a chance to answer, he stood up and left the room. The cloaked Gala left with him. Annea had not noticed the person was even there.

“I expected none of this,” Rheinald said. “Should be a fun excursion.”

“Didn’t you say you’ll just guide me to the village?” Edwin asked.

“I did. Decided to tag along for the rest of the journey. Gets boring in that village, you know?”

Julius cleared his throat. “I appreciate the two of you getting us here. Once we are in Dammrias, I will make sure to throw us a proper feast.”

“Ah, my lord, it will be the fourteenth by the time we arrive,” Annea said. “Might be well to wait a day before you organize a feast.”

“The fourteenth? I had nearly lost track. A very large celebration on the fifteenth, then. For our saviours, and for me,” he sighed. “I forgot to send invitations. But I suppose we will be enough.”

“Prince Julius, I was wondering if you had heard of a man by the name of Kothren,” Rheinald said.

“Kothren?” he stopped to think for a moment. “No, I do not believe I have.”

“…Alright,” he nodded.

Into the room then came the cloaked woman bearing a plate of cups and a bottle of wine. “Ruirui-Kyran wishes to let you know that if there are any who want to play cards and dice, they should come into the next room,” she said with a quiet and delicate voice and left.

Julius grabbed the bottle of wine. “I cannot read the letters,” he said and poured it into a cup. “Red. Probably not poisoned.”

“I doubt they would save us just to poison us, my lord,” Annea said.

“You never know,” he sipped the wine, and quickly screwed up his face. “Strong.”

Edwin stood up. “Need some air,” he told Rheinald and left.

Rheinald poured himself some wine. “Should I pour you some too?” he asked Annea.

“No need,” she moved away from the table. She neared her mouth to Julius’ ear. “I’m going to my room. If you are in danger, scream very loudly,” she whispered. Julius gave her a short chuckle, and she left.

She entered her room in the hallway right next to the table room. She took off her armour and placed it against the wall, untied her hair and threw herself on the bed. Annea looked at her arms and her stomach. Wounds, minor wounds that should have been there were not. No bruises or scratches anywhere. The only thing that was hurt was her ripped apart shirt. But besides that… nothing.

Laying on the bed, she wondered why that was. Why none of her wounds were there, nor had ever been. She wondered when she would come home and what she would do. She wondered why the very presence of that boy with the golden hair and eyes made her so angry. And she wondered how much time she had left to complete her duty. Staring at the ceiling, she dreaded what would happen once time ran out and hoped that her prince would not suffer.