Light of Epertase 01: Legends Reborn Read online

“I would love to share some with you.”

  Rasi hurried to them, grabbed a bushel, and hurried back. He scanned the floor until he found his eating rock. A quick swipe of his hand cleared the dust away and he piled the berries onto it before sliding it over to her.

  “Here,” she said with a fork outstretched.

  Rasi smiled.

  Together, the new friends talked while eating with their forks as the moon sailed across the sky. He told her about his wife and her death. She listened with the same warmness he remembered from Edonea. It was obvious that her own loss helped her understand his pain in ways most people could not. She told him about the pressures of royalty and about how much she loved her father even when he was a bit harsh. He mentally gritted his teeth at the mention of Elijah.

  While they talked, his straps lay sleeping along the floor. They were as exhausted as he, though he would forego sleep for days if it meant hearing her stories for even a moment longer. He gorged on her every elegant word, only replying when necessary to keep the conversation going. But mostly he just listened. He had no more interest in telling his own stories or troubles as every word he spoke meant fewer words he could hear her say.

  Before the suns broke the horizon, she whispered that she had best head back to the kingdom. He knew she was right but hated that it was true.

  Her last words to him were, “I will come back, I promise.”

  He wanted to tell her that she couldn’t, to protect her, to protect him, but he couldn’t bear the thought of her not returning. She brushed her hand across his arm and he closed his eyes. Her touch, however brief, was almost more than his senses could handle. She stood up. He stood next to her. He wanted to grab her arm, tell her to never leave, but he knew better. She caressed his cheek, turned and disappeared.

  With Alina gone and his brutal pit of emptiness swallowing him, his stomach reminded him of its torture. It seemed the berries he ate had hardly done the trick and he laughed at how little he cared as he gathered his fishing supplies.

  Maybe he should follow her. Out of sight, of course.

  And that is what he did.

  Today, he thought with a smile as he climbed onto Salient’s back. Today is a good day.

  CHAPTER 14

  COLORFULS

  Four lonely years passed for Rasi.

  The year was Matthew one thousand and twenty-four.

  Four-year-old Jarret raced through the vast fields of the Great Plains, his classmates trailing behind. The ankle-high blades of now-bright-blue grass were like millions of tiny, squirmy fingers as they reached out and tugged at his feet and tickled his bare toes.

  “Jarret, don’t run too far,” Alina hollered from behind. “You need to wait for the rest of the class.” But her pleas drove him faster.

  “Miss Alina,” pant, pant, “I’m hunting the colorfuls,” he yelled as he peeked over his shoulder. She was getting close, which made him squeal. With his focus on his pursuer, he tripped on the uneven ground. The animated blades of grass caught him with the softness of a pillow. The grass caressed his cheeks as he giggled and rolled to his back.

  Alina stood above him. He whispered, “Hi,” with an innocence only a child could possess.

  “Jarret, you are clumsy,” she said and dropped to her knees beside him. She tickled his belly and ribs and he squirmed away from her.

  “Miss Alina,” he said between gasps. “Stop it.”

  “Not until you understand that there are no more colorfuls. They only exist in legends.”

  “No, no. I can find them if I dig in the dirt,” he said. “I saw them yesterday.”

  Alina tapped him on his nose with her index finger. “Sure you did,” she said. He scrunched his face like he had a deep tickle and pulled away. “I very much doubt that you found any yesterday. Or the day before. They have not been seen for many generations.”

  He shook his head. “Miss Alina, why is the grass now blue? And why does it grab my toes and tickle my feet?”

  “I do not know, Jarret. I have never seen the plains like this before.”

  The other teachers and children plopped down around them, winded from their jog. The children rolled through the lively blades, laughing with unbridled excitement.

  Miss Sarah, one of the class teachers, told everyone to gather into a circle. “Our guest today, Princess Alina,” she said, “is going to tell us a story.”

  All of the children cheered.

  Jarret yelled, too excited to control his volume, “Your cheeks are red like apples,” and he giggled until he feared he’d wet his drawers. The other children burst into laughter, emboldening him. He yelled, “Your face looks like a …” he paused and thought for a moment. Then with the greatest joke he’d ever conceived, blurted, “An apple tree.” He looked to the kids for approval. Now they were hysterical.

  “That is enough, Jarret,” one of the teachers said. “Listening ears.”

  Alina winked at him, which made him happy. She began her impromptu tale. “Well, children, today’s story is about …” She first looked into the air and then peeked at Jarret. “Colorfuls,” she blurted and he showed her his dimples.

  “Can we dig for them?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “We are not digging for colorfuls, Jarret. This is just a story.”

  Miss Sarah tugged at the back of Jarret’s shirt and shushed him.

  Alina continued, “Once upon a time there was a little boy named … Jarret.”

  Jarret giggled again and puffed out his puny chest.

  “Jarret lived on a farm far away. And on his magical farm, thousands of beautiful worms grew from the ground like flowers. They were spectacular worms of all the colors of a rainbow. And they were gentle. The farmer gave them to all the children in town. When they slithered on the arms of little boys and girls, they were warm and they tickled, like the grass now does. When Jarret was given his worm, he loved it greatly and took very good care of it. The Elder Three gave them a name. Colorfuls, they said.”

  Jarret interrupted again, unable to control himself. “They live in the ground. We have to dig.”

  He felt another pestering tug on his shirt and again heard, “Shhhhhh,” from behind.

  Alina continued, “But then the Kingdom was very sad. King Thadius was angry and the people became afraid.”

  Jarret’s friend Gabriel asked, “Why was King Fadus angry?”

  “Well, Gabriel, no one really knows why King Thadius was angry. But Thadius had a special son who brought hope to the people. One day a great fire filled the air. And when the fire passed, the young prince was the new king and everyone was happy. That’s the day the colorfuls disappeared and haven’t been seen since.” She surveyed the children and Jarret wondered who she was looking for. “Does anyone know how we celebrate that special day?”

  One of the other children shouted, “Matthew Day.”

  “That’s right, the Day of Matthew the Peaceful. Do you all know what day is approaching?”

  Jarret nodded, even though he really didn’t. The other kids bobbed their heads with blank stares as well. Gabriel blurted out, “Is the festival today?”

  “No, Gabriel, not today, but soon.”

  The story was interrupted by a rhythmic whooshing sound. The children leaned to look south past Alina and the teachers.

  Miss Sarah hopped to her feet, clapping her hands. “Alright children, up, up, up. Everyone line up quickly.”

  She rang a bell. Jarret hurried to line up behind her. He was always first in line and took great pride in being so. The whooshes grew louder.

  Jarret hollered, “What’s that noise?”

  Miss Sarah answered, “It is a pollinator, Jarret. Now hush up, we need to get moving.”

  Jarret looked over his shoulder.

  Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.

  Jarret yelled, “It’s a dragon. Run.”

  Miss Sarah’s calm voice stopped the panic before it could start. “No, Jarret, it isn’t a dragon. It is a winter pollinator like we’v
e talked about in class.”

  As the flying creature dove toward the far edge of the Great Plains, Miss Sarah hustled the children away from its approach. While running, Jarret kept his head turned and his eyes fixed on the low-flying creature. Its clear wings were at least as large as a dragon’s, Jarret imagined.

  “Keep moving, children. We don’t want you to get covered with pollen.”

  “Why?” Gabriel asked.

  “Because you’ll be taking mud baths for several moons just to rid the stickiness. Your parents wouldn’t be too happy with me if I let that happen, would they?”

  Though she wasn’t talking to Jarret, he shook his head anyway.

  As the creature glided over the grass, the whooshes were replaced by a steady rush of air like from a heavy wind. Jarret heard one of his classmates crying and turned his attention to him. Miss Sarah stopped and scooped the boy into her arms. “Don’t be scared,” she said. “They won’t hurt us.”

  The class reached the edge of the plains. Everyone turned to watch.

  Gabriel shouted that the creature looked like a giant mosquito. Jarret was skeptical but squinted and then agreed. The “mosquito” outstretched twelve thin, long legs that reached as far as Jarret’s house, or so it seemed.

  One of the children, whose name Jarret couldn’t remember, asked, “What’s a pollfinter?”

  “Pollinator,” Alina answered. “They preserve the grass so they have food during the winter.”

  “They eat the grass?”

  “Yes. And when the winter ends, the pollen makes the grass grow again.”

  Jarret looked back at the creature, satisfied with her answer. Thick, white pus sprayed from along the undersides of its legs, coating the field in its wake.

  The pollinator soared into the air again and dove for another pass. Farther down, more of the giant bugs mimicked the first until the entire field was covered as if there had been a snow. While Jarret and the other children stared, the pus soaked into the grass and then vanished, leaving not a trace.

  With their work completed, the gentle beasts flew toward the clouds and then zipped out of sight. Jarret waved goodbye to them, wondering whether they waved back.

  Jarret asked, “Can we play some more?”

  Alina said, “You could,” and grinned. “If it wasn’t time to go back to class.”

  CHAPTER 15

  FORBIDDEN

  Rasi woke from his light sleep. Like so many nights before, Alina thrashed beneath his blanketing straps. She seemed to have more night terrors as of late than ever before and not being able to help saddened him. Her sleeping voice panicked. “No, no,” she moaned. “Help! Grandma … Grandpa … No. Please … don’t be dead.”

  Rasi nudged her. Alina, Alina. Wake up. You’re safe.

  She whimpered and turned away, her vicious nightmare broken. Her heaving chest relaxed into calm rises and falls as she continued her sleep.

  Rasi lay awake as the darkness faded and the bright yellow sun peeked over the horizon in the south, flashing a yellow hue into Rasi’s home. To the southeast, beyond the mountains, a more distant reddish sun also burned along the horizon. By midmorning, they would both be above the mountains and Alina would be missed at her home.

  Rasi’s straps wriggled and stretched into the air. He tried to will them back over his sleeping treasure but they were more concerned with morning nourishment than keeping Alina warm. She fidgeted and reached for a blanket that didn’t exist. Rasi sat up and leaned his head over her half-naked physique. This was his favorite part of life – the few moments he was able to watch her sleep. He stared at her gorgeous stirring body as she stretched on the hard dirt floor, sighing away her slumber.

  Good morning, Alina, my love.

  She stretched her arms above her head, not quite awake. Rasi rubbed his finger along the outline of her ribs as they pressed against the skin on the side of her chest. She shuddered. Good morning, my love, she replied and opened her eyes to his gaze. She asked why he stared.

  You are as beautiful as any sight I have ever seen. Even the suns and stars in the sky envy your beauty. She smiled.

  His straps reached for the ceiling to rid themselves of a long night’s worth of kinks.

  She ran her hand along his chest and over the heavy scars on his shoulder. When she touched his long-since-healed wounds, her eyes wore the same look of pity that his scars always provoked from her and it made him uncomfortable. He stood up into the suns’ light projecting his muscular silhouette onto the cave wall.

  “I see why people fear you,” she said. “If only they knew how gentle you are.”

  Rasi smirked. You’ve never seen the bad in me.

  “I don’t believe there is any.”

  Rasi wished her words were true.

  His long, ratted hair rested against his shoulders. He tugged at a single braided lock and played with it between his fingers. It reminded him of his wife and he felt a rush of guilt. He turned away.

  “What is wrong?” she asked in her angelic voice.

  He shook his head.

  “You miss her, don’t you?”

  I miss the world, he snapped and stormed out of the cave.

  The air wasn’t as cold to him, even wearing no more than his animal-skin, knee-length kilt. The blood flowing through his straps seemed to keep him warm even in the harshest weather.

  He watched the river’s water whisk by. When those dark, self-pitying feelings grabbed hold, he had to fight to squash them.

  With his mind distracted, a rodent-like creature scurried past the cave’s entrance. One of his straps snatched the squank into its grip. The rodent squealed. Its bones popped and snapped with sounds of cracked knuckles.

  The strap dropped the limp squank carcass at Rasi’s feet, breaking his daze. He picked it up and carried it back into the cave.

  Alina whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  I love you, Alina.

  She nodded a sympathetic nod.

  Rasi asked if she was hungry. She said that she was.

  He tossed three pieces of wood onto the smoldering fire and fanned the flames with his hands. The air hissed from the wood’s heated pores in melodic crackles. While the fire grew, he dressed his prey.

  You’re getting better with those, she said. I mean your straps.

  I didn’t do that. They must be hungry.

  She snuck up behind him. One of the straps floated past her face and settled into her palm. “They are so heavy,” she said. “And warm. Like a slab of meat.” She leaned closer, examining its blood-red, veiny surface. “Are they heavy on your back?” Her voice was as soft as a butterfly’s breath.

  No. They support their own weight. Or maybe I’m just getting used to them.

  He tore away a cooked squank leg and handed it to her. She sunk her teeth into the charred meat and ripped a chunk away as though she had never eaten before.

  “They say a dragon lives in these mountains,” she blurted with her mouth full.

  He peered up from his meal.

  “Have you seen it?” she asked and her eyes grew wide.

  Rasi grunted and shook his head. No. Why?

  “Oh, no reason really.” Her shoulders drooped a little and she turned away. “I’ve heard tales and was curious is all.”

  Though Rasi had no idea why she was so fascinated by the thought of a dragon, he saw her disappointment and hurried to relieve it. I have seen one before, he thought. She spun her head around in anticipation. When I was a child, several of my friends and I snuck into the woods near my farm. We had heard rumors of a nest in the forest center and though forbidden to go there, one night we did.

  “What happened?” she asked, looking like she would burst if he ended his tale too quickly.

  It smelled us and we ran.

  “That’s it?”

  That’s it.

  “But you saw it?”

  Yeah.

  “What did it look like?”

  It was big, big as your castle. And colorful. I th
ink it was a female.

  “It didn’t attack, or give chase?”

  No. Dragons, as I hear it, are more passive than anything nowadays. Since the Epertasian-dragon wars, the few still alive try to live mostly in peace. So, to answer your first question, no, there are no dragons in these mountains. And to answer your last, if you ever come across one, stay out of its nest. He threw another hunk of wood onto his fire, sending floating sparks to the ceiling. He peeked at her as she stared at the flames.

  She smiled, then draped the pelt of a cotee over her shoulders and carried her breakfast out onto the rocky path along the cave’s front. Rasi followed her as she approached the edge of the river embankment. The frigid water raged past, crashing against the sides of the rocky shores.

  Don’t get too close, he cautioned. She glanced back with a smile, then sat and dangled her legs into the splash of the chilled water. You should back up. The water is fierce, he said again.

  She continued to grin. “Nothing can hurt me when you are around.” He touched her cotee-covered shoulders. She shivered.

  It’s cold out here. You should come back inside.

  “The cold lets me know I’m alive,” she said. “I want to stay with you. I never want to leave.”

  Your father will worry. He will send trackers.

  “Let’s run. We can flee these lands. We’ll go to Lithia or the Islands of Torick. You will protect me.”

  He would be lying if he denied that it was his dream as well, but life on the run was hard. Your father is King of Epertase. His reach stretches the entire known world. We could never be free.

  “I know,” she said, resignation pouring from her voice. “But every moment we are apart, my heart dies a little.”

  He smiled and saw his reflection in her emerald eyes. He wanted to tell her how his heart ached as well but it would only make their goodbye more painful. You’d better head back. You will be missed soon.

  She glided her hand along his cheek. “I like it better with your chin bare.”

  I know you do.

  She disappeared into the cave.

  Rasi let out a distinctive grunt which brought Salient and Allusia trotting from beside the cave’s mouth. Salient’s black coat wasn’t as vibrant as it used to be. His matted mane drooped over his eyes; its inky shades of black were woven with streaks of ratted gray. Rasi stood facing his long-time companion and stroked his muzzle.