Chapter 10

Days had passed since they escaped from Gorn. They had traversed the deserts of the Eastern Isles for days, stopping in smaller villages. Wanted posters had been spread throughout all the lands, for ones known as: The Dragon, The Demon and The Devil. In other words every bounty hunter, assassin, and guy down on their luck was after them.

The reward was astonishing, five-thousand Ceno, enough to last a person from birth to death without ever needing to work. They truly were wanted people.

The three of them refined their skills daily, becoming as strong as they possibly could be. There was still a challenge when in combat, a single man or woman could not defeat an army single handedly.

Currently they were travelling into Rellbrand for supplies. Food was low and water was scarce. Nogrithin, creatures that show up in mirages, had troubled them with encounters in the night and day.

“When are we going to be there?” asked Haverian, The Devil.

“Twelve more hours,” stated Limiria, The Demon. They continued in silence for a few more hours, their feet pounding against the waves of sand. Gusts of sand blew over their faces, sticking to their skin. Their eyes blurred from the waves of sand. Their masks picking up every droplet of sweat from every pore.

“Twelve hours, twelve hours, twelve whole hours of walking just to get supplies,” murmured Haverian, “we’ll probably spend twenty more walking to Greviess.” That was their plan, get to Greviess. They had been walking for days, just to get too Rellbrand. Time had flown by since they had escaped Gorn. Bounty rising everyday, even by a single Leren. They survived off the fact that people didn’t know their actual face, only their masks.

“I can see it on the horizon, we'll be there in a few hours,” said Thalorian.

“Exactly! Twelve hours!” replied Haverian, throwing his hands in the air.

“You’re twenty-three years old, you can deal with walking for a few hours,” said Thalorian.

“Even for the person with the most stamina in the entire world that is too long!” Haverian shouted. Will Haverian ever get out of his childish fase? It’s like doing a serious journey, that may result in our death, with a ten year old!

They continued walking in silence for several more minutes before Haverian chimed in again., “You know I think we should just give up on this whole uprising thing and live as farmers in a neighboring kingdom.”

“Where’d that come from?” asked Limiria. “The closest kingdom is Kanata, and they have a very different understanding of magic.”

“Yeah but we’re going from city to city risking our lives for food when we could be resting on a cool beach in Kanata,” stated Haverian.

The neighboring kingdom of Kanata, now known as Canada, was one of the first to fall to the might of The Aternum. It lasted for a long time before they had all signs and memories of magic removed. The current year was fourteen-thousand, nine hundred and seventy five. Every fifteen-thousand years the date resets to zero. Aternum's will is what many call it. Some call it the Time that All Falls, but whatever you call it it’s real.

“True, but we’re sort of committed at this point, so know smoothies by the ocean for a while,” Thalorian commented.

“Fine, but as soon as this is over I’m getting a nice fruit smoothie and taking a nap on Hero’s Bay,” Haverian finished.

A gale of wind blew all around them and the sand started to stir up.

“Take cover!” yelled Limiria, ducking behind a rock. Thalorian's cloak flapped in the wind, he tried to hide behind the same rock but his cloak kept being picked up by the wind, pulling him back faster than he could run.

“Terris Elia!” yelled Thalorian over the winds. A wall of rock jutted up from the sand and blocked the gusts of wind from hitting them. Thalorian slumped down against the rock wall, and looked around for Limiria and Haverian. He was sure he made the wall big enough for all of them.

“Haverian, Limiria, you there?” asked Thalorian. A muffled shout came from a sand bank near Thalorian. “Zephra.” A blast of wind blew the sand away. Haverian crawled out of the pit and coughed up sand.

“Thanks Thalor,” said Haverian, getting up.

“I told you not to call me that,” said Thalorian, correcting Haverian.

“Okay, okay I won't call you Thalor,” said Haverian. A little bit later he added, “Got it… Thalor.” Thalorian just sighed and they continued walking, talking sometimes, resting others.

“The sun is setting, we should set up camp,” Limiria stated. “Thalorian can you–” before she could finish, Thalorian cut her off.

“Cast a defensive spell around camp, of course,” said Thalorian, almost already knowing what she was going to ask. “Rionienessian Ournen Rexs,” chanted Thalorian. A dome covered about five meters of space, protecting them from harm. “If anything happens when we’re asleep it’ll sound an alarm and wake us up.”

Thalorian lay in bed. The cold sand flowed under his sleeping bag. It was freezing cold at night, and almost impossible to get to bed. Thalorian didn’t mind sleeping under the stars, they looked beautiful that night. His mind brought him back to several months ago when he was back at home, in Hirenlia, before it was destroyed. He remembered his fight with his parents, how they wanted him to move to the capital to have a better life, he remembered how he didn’t want to and angrily stormed out. He had grabbed the old sword in his house and some healing herbs, and stormed outside mumbling about how he wasn’t going to leave them alone.

In Hirenlia it wasn’t illegal to go to the Fields of Ash, but it was highly frowned upon. Thalorian knew no one would be there so he brought some protective gear in case anything attacked him and explored the fields for hours to calm himself down and have fun. When he left that day he decided he would go a direction he never had. That's when all this started, the book, the Crown, all of this had happened to him because he decided to go a different way. Maybe the way he went wasn’t just another road, but maybe it was a way of life he had chosen. Isolated from life, always having a target on his back, trying to be killed constantly. That's not what I wanted!

He thought about the night, it all changed many times, trying to figure out what he did wrong to be cast into the world of constant fighting and not being able to have a nice sleep all because he took one stupid book.

Haverian’s skeletal arm clanked against itself, the bone parts colliding as he snored softly. Thalorian glanced over at where Limiria lay, she wasn’t there. He got out of his sleeping bag and walked around their camp, it wasn’t very big, they had a fire, and some sleeping bags. Rocks were scattered all around camp, some big, some small. It made for uncomfortable sleeping situations, you could be all snug in bed, then roll a little to the right and have a sharp rock in your side.

Thalorian walked around the camp looking for her. He called her name out a few times.

“I’m over here!” Limiria hollered to Thalorian. She atop a large rock, just outside camp looking up at the sky. Thalorian climbed up the rock.

“What are you doing up here?” asked Thalorian.

“Just sitting,” Limiria answered. A little later she added, “Aren’t they beautiful, the stars I mean.”

“I guess,” Thalorian replied, sitting down.

“Things have been rough, we got shipwrecked here and now we’re trekking through the desert with no goal in mind,” said Limiria.

“At least we have each other,” Thalorian commented. Limiria shuffled a little closer to Thalorian. A rumble came from Haverian as snored incredibly loud.

“Look at him, all peaceful, you’d never know he was wanted for five-thousand Ceno,” said Limiria.

“I think that you’d think he was a lost child!” laughed Thalorian. Limiria gave him a weird look, “not that a lost child is a laughing matter, of course.” Thalorian corrected himself after the look.

They continued to talk for two hours. They’d never talked like this before, they were close sure but those few hours had brought them closer. After a while they just stared at the sky watching it flow by as Kra’kara, goddess of space and the sky, pulled the stars on her chariot of bulls. Even though they didn’t know they were, their hands were touching.

“This was nice, we should do it again sometime,” said Limiria, jumping down from the rock.

“Sure,” responded Thalorian, jumping down a little later.

Stretching his arms, Thalorian yawned as he got up in the morning. He walked around the camp, to stretch his legs. He put his cloak on and strapped his sword to his side. His memories of last night were fresh in his mind. He gazed up at the sky, the blistering sun blinded him. He looked back down, wiping sweat from his brow as he continued down the path.

“Haverian, Limiria, we have to leave. I have a bad feeling, like something's going to go terribly wrong,” said Thalorian.

“Can I at least sleep in for a few more minutes?” asked Haverian, but he already knew the answer.

“Let’s go Haverian,” said Limiria. “If you keep resting we’ll have to walk for longer.” At those words Haverian was off like a shot. He packed his bag up so fast you would think he didn’t even pack anything.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go go go!” said Haverian running out of their tent.

“He’s so peppy today, wonder what got into him?” questioned Limiria.

“I don’t know but I like that it doesn’t take us half an hour to get him out of bed,” said Thalorian.

“He is a lot like a child, you’d never guess he’s in his early twenties,” said Limiria.

“Yeah,” Thalorian finished. “Garax,” said Thalorian, dispelling the barrier. Outside the wall that protected them as they slept was an unfamiliar sight. There was a gargantuan carriage adorned with bone pulled by two giant oxen with blood dripping from their horns. Several orc barbarians patrolled around it on smaller oxen. They carried giant axes and the ones at the front and back had giant spiked shields.

A horn was blown in the distance and several men and women on horses charged down holding spears and swords wearing silver armour adorned with gold stones. On each of their shields was one of the only familiar things, a dove with two spears through it, the Crowns symbol. This was the crown's attempt at seizing the Eastern Isles for his own. He truly was a greedy man.