The Exiled King

Haverik’s eyes widened—but not at the sight of Lirya. His eyes were glued to the lady beside her. The elven lady had sea-green eyes and a long white hair braided down her back. Hair quite like Haverik’s own, when not covered in muddy brown dye.

The elven lady introduced herself as ‘Eryna’ and grinned at them, her brilliant eyes dancing and full of life.

“You must be the companions my charge mentioned?” She motioned at Lirya and they all nodded.

Still, none of them dared break the question—how had she come back? How was she, who was dead and buried in the ground, standing before their eyes, seemingly unchanged?

Magic was a thing of the past, slowly returning. Only those of the previous generation had any proper knowledge on it. And the demon war ended the lives of many who lived during that era. The knowledge of magic in Sanobar was wiped out like a candle to a strong gust of wind, extinguished and leaving only dying embers behind. But even the smallest spark could set the candle alight again.

Eryna grinned, “I’ll not ask questions—just pay upfront and I’ll get you to Silvardor!”

Leus was the first to break the awful silence as he asked Lirya what she had agreed to pay for their trip.

“Twelve gylins for the lot of you,” Eryna replied cheerfully, as Leus went slack mouthed in sheer astonishment.

“Lirya! Don’t you remember we only have a little more than a gylin’s worth of money?” He hissed, lowering his voice.

Lirya smiled, unfazed. She reached for a bulging pouch at her waist and pulled it open, revealing a large quantity of coins—mainly gold gylins. It was a small fortune. Taking out fifteen, she placed them in Eryna’s hand and said, “A few more for your silence.”

Eryna let out a peal of laughter and returned the three gylins, saying, “Everything I do is kept silent. You think this is even the slightest bit legal? Think Lord Throeyns is going to spare me if I rat you lot out? Not a chance in Abyss! That man’s as ruthless as they come.”

Lirya looked as though she wanted to say something, to object or claim otherwise, but the words died in her mouth. What she wanted to say, Haverik had no idea. They’d never gotten around to introductions beyond names and the identifiable circlet on Jason’s brow. Needless to say, although they had gotten closer, and all had mourned the passing of Lirya, trust was something that had yet to grow between them. Still, Haverik trusted his feeling that they were good people, just as he trusted his feeling that Eryna was more than what meets the eye.

“We leave at nightfall—so be back here by then. I don’t care what you do in town as long as you don’t get arrested,” Eryna said, waving them off with a quick hand motion.

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Nightfall came quickly, and the group made their way back to the docks. Haverik had been briefed on their situation, and Lirya had divulged the story of how she returned, alive and well. She’d been sent back to Dargon, with a purse full of gold and a full set of enchanted clothing, in the woods half a day’s walk from Jaromaen. Following the wagon tracks that cut a path through the forest had led her to the town, where she eventually learned of Eryna’s services. As fate would have had it, the group reunited.

And it was time to finally leave the soil of one kingdom to enter that of another. Travel between the kingdoms was rare for the average citizen, and none of them had actually left the soil of Sanobar before.

Eryna reappeared, guiding them onto her boat, stepping off and returning with a stack of crates towering over her head balanced precariously in her two hands.

At the questioning looks thrown her way, she answered, “The ‘official’ goods I’m trading. Since I’m heading there anyways, I might as well load up on the exotic human items that sell like hot cakes among the elves. One thing though, before you board—you’re not the only clients I have, so respect each other, don’t pry, and stay out of each other’s way.”

The boat was a fine vessel with a build similar to regular merchant ships, with one remarkable difference—there was less space for cargo and more cabin space. At the centre, there was a small staircase, just a few steps, really, leading to a door and, beyond that, a comfortable cabin with a low ceiling and two bunk beds stacked against the walls. Hooks adorned the wooden walls, laden with various home comforts and a desk was situated at the very end, littered with a collection of maps and a strange device that Leus identified as a magic compass—a very expensive elven contraption that was the dream of any seafarer. Sitting in the cabin were two dwarves, noticeably by their smaller and more stocky builds. The dwarves were dressed in long cloaks that hid most of their faces, although it was discernible that they were female. They nodded in greeting and retreated further into the cabin to make space for the newcomers.

Under the cover of darkness, the ship set out across the lapping waters. It would be a short journey of a few hours to make it to Silvardor, and Eryna told them to make themselves comfortable. Jason had gone into the cabin to rest and Haverik was spaced out, his eyes glazed and mind clearly elsewhere. Lirya and Eryna were conversing, their voices a low buzz and Leus stood by the railings of the ship, enjoying the sound of the waves, the swaying of the boat and the scent of the salt in the air. Occasionally, seawater splashed up on deck, spraying a fine mist over his clothes and face. He freed his hair from the hairband he had tied it with and let the wind comb through it, blowing the hair out of his face.

Grey clouds smothered the sky and a light rain began to fall, quickly drenching those standing onboard. Leus watched as Lirya hurried into the cabin and Eryna locked the wheel so she could step away from the steering post for a bit. She disappeared into the cabin before returning carrying a bundle in her hands and wearing a raincoat—a thick coat of sheep’s wool, where the natural oil would keep out the water. Eryna wordlessly handed the bundle to Leus, who thanked her gratefully upon realising it was another raincoat.

She’s tense, Leus realised, But why?

He asked her and she replied, “This storm… it's getting worse. It was peaceful enough before, but the rain rolled in too quickly. I could have sworn, by Syledin, that all my senses told me today was going to be a good day for sailing! The skies were clear—Gods! It feels as though we’re being punished!”

An uneasy hammering in his heart—a squeezing, choking, suffocating feeling. It didn’t take a genius to tell that all of his instincts were telling him to run.

Run? Run where? We’re stuck in the middle of the damn ocean in a god forsaken storm! He thought, his hands gripping the railing tighter and tighter until his knuckles shone white.

The winds picked up, sending the boat swaying as ever increasing waves tossed the boat to a fro like it was nothing but a toy. Eryna left Leus, telling him to get inside the cabin, and headed back to the steering wheel of the ship. The deck was drenched and Leus braced himself and made his way back to the cabin, feeling his feet almost leave the ground, and his heart jump. A particularly large wave came crashing down on the ship and sent him sprawling faster than he could blink. Pain exploded on his back.

He was no stranger to pain. Pain had been a part of his childhood—a constant reminder, warning, punishment. To curb rebellion and break spirit. The old scars of past lashes burned with a phantom pain, mixing like liquid fire with the burning of the wounds that had just begun to heal as they were torn open and exposed to the salty seawater. His eyes watered unbidden and dark spots dotted his vision. Was he screaming? He did not know. His throat was raw and his back roared with new pain as he tried to move. Pain so intense, overwhelming and fiery

“Leus!” The door to the cabin swung open wildly and flew back, slamming into the wall. Lirya ran out to him, trying to help him stand. However, she lost her footing as another massive wave threw her forward. Jason, who stood by the doorway, was thrown out of the cabin and onto the slippery deck, where he kept sliding until he was able to grab hold of the mast to stop himself from sliding further—for the only thing left was the roaring ocean that would suck him into the depths, never to return again. Leus slid backwards and his head hit something hard that made him see stars. Everything faded to the inky nothingness that was unconsciousness.

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A massive reef sprang up under the hull of the ship, which was almost thrown onto the rocks like a ragdoll, and landed with a splintering crack. Another enormous wave smothered the wreck in water, then receded, building up to another.

[End part 1]