Chapter 8:
The Edge of Balance
They made it onto the boat pretty easily. Thalorians attempts at disguise magic were many, but nonetheless they made it on. The boat was a grand structure. A marvelous mix of wood and steel floating the waters of the Western Sea. Its hull curved around the jagged rocks that stuck out of the water. The magnificent waters lapped over the beautiful boat, its salty waters forming a tapestry of barnacles.
“Well? Is it safe yet?” said the snobby rich boy Thalorian was assigned to. In his disguise he was Sir.Eldinrich III, a magnificent swordsman and even better guard.
“Yes, my liege,” coughed out Thalorian. He had no pity for the boy, let alone respect. The boy’s name was Herron Stonebeth, the fourth son of Lord Henry Stonebeth of Valearen.
The boy held his head high, “Good, I need the utmost security for my trip back to Valearen, nothing short of the best will do.”
Thalorian hated the boy. His snobby attitude always thinking he was better than all. I must restrain myself…he reminds of the king. Thalorian often thought things like that but if he were to harm the boy their entire plan would be jeopardized.
“Well, continue your patrol,” said the boy. Thalorian was glad to be away from the boy, but it was harder keeping his act up around the other nobles, and the staff.
This continued for many days, the fourth and final week was in their sights, when the storm hit. Giant waves smashed against the ferry and lightning flashed in the skies. If they weren’t on the sea Thalorian wouldn’t think twice about the storm. With the constant shaking of the boat Thalorians concentration on his spell was faltering, Eldrinriches dark black hair was fading into his own brown hair and he had grown slightly due to the spell so he was a little shorter. Limiria and Haverian were also experiencing their own difficulties.
Thalorian ran to the store room where they had dumped their stuff when they first got on the boat. Their weapons, supplies, and clothes were in there as well. Haverian and Limiria were on his tail as they burst into the room. He could hear the shouts of the nobles. Thalorian dispelled the transformation and returned to their regular selves. Throwing the armour away he returned to his normal clothes and Limiria and Haverian did the same.
“So what's the plan?” asked Haverian, strapping his boots back on.
“My vote is for hiding for the remaining few days,” said Thalorian, clipping the Eternal Balance to his hip. The minute he said that the door burst open and the nobles they had tricked stormed in.
“Who are you?!” asked Lord Henry.
“Mother, who are they?” asked a girl ,who couldn’t be older than five, with a frilly dress.
“That's Eldinriches armour!” shouted the brat Thalorian had been assigned to.
Without a word the three people ran toward the nobles, barreling through them.
“Ornernyian!” chanted one of the nobles. Thalorian felt his body slow to a stop. One of the guards on the ship slid out of a door and thrust their spear toward Thalorian, piercing his skin.
“Voltis Elia!” yelled Thalorian, firing a bolt of lightning from his mouth and instantly killing the guard. The noble must have temporarily lost concentration because Thalorian could move again. He bolted toward the noble with magic and sliced through him like paper, his sword a blur of steel gliding through the air like a dove in the sky.
“Thalorian! Let’s go!” yelled Limiria, she and Haverian were already on a dingy. Thalorian gazed at the brat, we wanted to kill him, we wanted to make him feel the pain he had, and most of all he wanted him to suffer. Reluctantly, he turned toward the dingy and jumped in.
The waves lapped at the sides of the boat, wrecking the wood. The metal lining holding the planks together started splitting and some fell off. Water surged into the boat as it slowly sunk down into the water.
“It’s sinking!” shouted Haverian.
“Thanks captain obvious!” said Limiria rolling her eyes.
“Braris!” chanted Thalorian, lighting the main boat on fire. The wood curled and shriveled. The people on board ran to lifeboats. Arrows and spears flew through the air, most smashed into the water, some hit the boat. Waves crashed and roared as they crashed into the small boat and it sank.
Thalorian jumped off. He didn’t have enough time to check for the others. He prayed to the Aternum more than he ever had, Orionori, great goddess of the storm and the sea. I don’t care about myself, just guard the others, grant them passage through your waters. Please Orionori, please!
Thalorian awoke on a beach, the seagulls squawked, and the waves lapped against him. He checked for the Eternal Balance, it was still there. He looked around, Limiria and Haverian weren’t there, although there were some words etched into the sand, “Corrin mus arak,” murmured Thalorian. Those words were familiar, he didn’t know from where all he knew was that that was Haverian's handwriting. He knew that this meant something important and he knew that it was there so he could find them.
“Corrin mus arak, corrin mus arak, what could that mean?” wondered Thalorian. “Damn you Haverian and your fancy language!” Thalorian yelled to the sky.
Follow the ash.
“What?” said Thalorian, gazing down at the book.
It says ‘Follow the ash’ . It's a common phrase around here.
“And where's here?” Thalorian replied.
By the wind and sand flow I’d say we’re just into Gorn territory.
“Gorn, as in the orc village. Gorn, as in the orc village that enjoys slaughtering their children, and women only give birth so that they feel the guts of a newborn in their hands! That Gorn!” yelled Thalorian screaming, speeding as he spoke.
Yes. ‘Follow the ash’ means the same thing as ‘go west’. Gorn and its neighbouring cities and villages, Greivess and Rellbrand, are run by The Spike which is this province's leader like your Crown.
“And why are you telling me this?” asked Thalorian.
Well you did ask where you are, so I told you.
“Fair,” said Thalorian.
Thalorian walked in silence for hours, going west as Haverian had said. His feet pounded against the sand, at least his clothes had dried. The sweltering heat of the desert skewed his vision, things bended and shifted. His sword clanked against his side and his clothes sagged in the winds. Sand blew into his eyes and stuck to his skin like a vampire sucking out his blood. In the distance he saw palm trees and a pool of vibrant water, Limiria and Haverian were there sipping water from a coconut, when he got closer a gale blew away the sand.
His body sagged as his fatigued muscles collapsed, he hadn’t eaten in days and walking in a blazing-hot desert was the last thing he needed. He walked a bit to the left then to the right and he fell to the ground like a drunken man trying to walk home after a long day at the bar. Sand covered his body and he was buried, a thousand leagues under the desert.
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