Elyar found himself back at camp trying to get some rest before they headed out. Frem had said they would leave at first light. He knew that was soon, but no matter how he turned and tossed he could not fall asleep. Finally he gave up. Tossing his blanket off he pushed himself off his mat and grabbed his cloak. He scooted out of his tent, wrapped himself up after making sure his clothes were not in a mess, and then walked over to the fire.
Sanders was there. The glow of the fire danced across his gaunt face. Elyar could not tell what he was thinking. To be safe he decided to let the man sit in silence. If that is what he wanted, Elyar would give it to him. He was happy to sit and think anyway.
His thoughts wandered across field of tall grass full of howling wolves, tall mountains with a bright, red moon soaring above it, to broken towers. Each scene bore death and peril. Every scene he seemed to fail. Fail to help his friends. Fail to find the answers he needed. Fail to save his family from a insane king bent on destroying his home. Even if he had been lied to about how Korax was founded. Even if the emperor a long time ago commited autrocities. He did not serve those emperors. He had never even met the current emperor. His will did not stop his fat her from serving the people of Erast the way they should be served.
No. Korax was just a place he lived in. The Feud was his home. Determination swelled within him. He would not fight for the emperor or for Korax. But he would die for the Feud. For his family. And for his friends. The Rav…
“How long was I in there alone?”
Sanders spoke. Elyar was pulled from his thoughts to see the man across from his looking at him. But also not looking at him. If felt like he was looking through or past him.
“How many days, weeks, months…years. How long?”
Elyar did not know how to answer. He had no answer to that question. A pain stabbed him near the center of his chest. Not pain from a blade or arrow. But from sympothy toward this broken man. Elyar did not know how it felt to have his life ripped from him. But he knew it was something no man should go through.
“What do you remember before you were…” he did not know how to finish his question. He stopped trying to find a way and fell silent. Sanders sat for a bit. He was not sure if he was thinking or just wasn’t going to answer.
Finally he responded, “I remember being near my home. It was a warm day full of clouds. The wind was weaving through the grass.” A smile touched Sander’s face. Elyar was glad to see the man smile.
“I loved days like that. They made working out in the fields easier, even fun.” His face started dropping again. “Then they came. They slashed and burned. Burned everything. Our barns. Our houses. They killed everyone they saw. Or…I guess not everyone.” His voice trailed off leav ing them both in silence again.
“I always liked warm days standing under the shade of forest near my home. The clouds would float by and I would try to make out the shapes. Sometimes my father would leave me alone, other times he would drag me out to the fields to help him and my brothers.” He smiled thinking about his father and brothers. But he was a little sad thinking about them. Worry clouded his joy. He hoped they were safe.
“That sounds nice. I wonder if I have a family.”
“Can you not remember?”
“I…I only see hazy shapes. Nothing seems clear!” He began hitting his head. His once calm demeanor overcome by frustration over his memory loss. Elyar jumped over to him grabbing his arms.
“They will come back! You have to give them time. You need rest, and sleep, an healing. Once we are on the other side of the mountains
there is a village. There you can rest as much as you need.”
Sanders started to calm down. The tension Elyar felt in his arms relaxed. His breathing calmed down as well. Looking at Elyar he said,
“thank you. You are a nice young lad. You said your name was…Elyar? Correct?”
“Yes. Elyar Edaamson.” Elyar released Sander’s arms and scooted over a little giving him some space. But he stayed near Sanders. Just in case.
“That is a good name. A strong name. You seem to bare it well.” Sanders said while looking back at the fire. Elyar was not sure how to respond. No one had ever told him that before. No one ever commented on his name at all.
Neither talked much after that. The moon started to vanish behind the mountains. Then the first hints of the sun began to appear on the horizon. Golden rays slowly forced their way through the armies of darkness. Eventually it was bright enough for the night to be over. Sounds started coming from those still sleeping. One by one half asleep Hunters stumbled to the fire. Frem, who had been on guard quietly sat by the fire. By the time the sun began crawling up everyone was up, exc ept for the Nyx and Isabel. They were still asleep.
After sitting in silence for awhile Frem began talking. “We now have two objectives. First, we must escort our new friends to the village. Their safety is our first priority. Hopefully we won’t encounter any more…problems. Once they are safe we must return to Val. If Lord Cane and Lord Edaam are still there than we can warn them. If not, our job becomes that much harder. Elyar, Jereme, neither of you are required to
join us on our mission. I know you will want to go back home to make
sure everyone is safe. But, if you want to join us, I will allow it.”
Elyar smiled and laughed to himself. He had not known Frem long, but he already knew that meant Frem liked them and wanted them to come with them. He could also tell that Frem was still strugling with
Havol’s death. Frem seemed more…to the point than usual.
“Do you think Tem is still waiting?” Jereme asked.
Chucking Frem shrugged. “I hope so. But we should be able to retr-
ace our steps if that old rooster wandered off.”
With that they started breaking down their camp. Declan quietly woke Nyx and Isabel. Elyar saw them jump and a flash of fear crossed Isabel’s face before she remembered where she was. He saw her tense muscles slowly relax. Elyar sighed in sympothy for her as he rolled up his sleeping bad and attached it to the bottom of his bag. Once everyone was packed they started the long way back to Val.
Elyar, still walking in the back, struggled with their speed. Not because they were walking to fast. But because of how slow they trudged. To keep a pace Sanders, Isabel, and Nyx could keep up with, Frem was walking very slow. Excruciatingly slow. To pass the time, Elyar started thinking of calligromancy spells. While studying for the Triad he had learned a lot of basic runes. But he had never actually used most of them. Seeing how the runes on Ruzur’s back reacted to blood, and how his sword reacted to his breath, he was curious what other combinations were out there.
The sun slowly climbed up into the sky. He thought about how his sword was unbreakable and would never dull. The sun reached its peak. Is my sword actually unbreakable? Or is it just REALLY hard to break? The sun started its long walk back toward the horizon. He remembered a story about how his great-grandfather’s sword, which was blessed like his sword (minus the flame run), had been broken by an ogre. When he had first heard the story he had thought it was a funny story his father would tell them. But now…now he was curious if it was true. Did father know these stories were true? He must have after meeting Pyke. Oh dear Pyke. I miss that old man.
The sun was halfway down now. Elyar could tell the group was moving slower and slower. Sanders, Nyx, and Isabel were stumbling more. Nyx nearly fell into one of the marshes on multiple occasions. Elyar was relieved when they exited them. Once they were on the plains between the marshes and mountains Frem called for a halt. Packs were dropped.
Shoulders massaged, and like always, wood collected. The poor three collapsed on the ground. For a minute they looked dead, but eventually they sat back up and stared at the others while they set up camp. Elyar reali zed they had nothing to set up and they did not know the set up routine.
Luckily they had enough spare clothes they were able to get them into warm things. They would have to find tents for them eventually.
Maybe the village will have some if they decide to travel.
Once camp was set up Elyar continued thinking about his runic conundrum. If the stories are true, and a blessed sword can still be broken. What can break it? He sat there thinking for a while playing with two rocks. He was knocking them together watching the sun slip farther down the sky when one rock split the other in half. An idea occurred to him. Maybe two items blessed with the same runes counter each other. If that is the case what is the point of calligromancy?
He grabbed a new rock to replace the now broken one. Using some charcoal he etched the runes for Unbreaking while opening his being to the weave. He knew it had worked when he felt the now familiar pull and shimmer over the objects. Now that both rocks were theoretically unbreakable, he needed to test his theory. Slightly embarrassed, he walked a little ways away from the group to where he thought they would not be able to hear him.
He held one rock in each hand, took a deep breath, and slammed them together. A loud CRACK sound echoed off of them. Besides that, nothing. He tried again. Still nothing. He started smashing them together over and over again until he got a little tired. Breathing heavily he examined the rocks. Not a single sign of his abuse. Maybe they are unbreakable.
“Releasing some frustration are we?” Jereme said appearing out of nowhere.
Startled by his voice Elyar jumped a little. Jereme’s arms were crossed over his chest and a big grin was on his face. Elyar could tell he had been there for a few minutes. “No…I was testing an idea.” Elyar retorted. A little annoyance seeping out. He did not like how easily Jereme could sneak up on him.
“Oh really? What is this theory that requires you banging rocks together like you were sounding the city alarm?” Chuckling Jereme said wh ile walking a little closer.
“If you must know, I was wondering if an unbreakable sword was actually unbreakable. My first test was to smash two unbreakable stones
together. I wanted to know if they canceled each other out.” “Did they?”
Holding up the rocks Elyar showed their unharmed surface.
“Obviously not.”
“Let me get this straight. You want to know if you put a unbreaking rune on two different objects, if one would break the other? Am I getting that right?”
“Yes that is what I said.” Elyar responded still a little annoyed.
“It seems to me that you would need to do the opposite of unbreaking. What would that be?”
Elyar thought for a second. “I guess fracture? But that might just cr ack the object.”
“Well why don’t you try?”
“Why don’t I try.” Elyar mimicked while grabbing the charcoal to write the rune on a new stone he had found.
Jereme chortled “Oh, is it going to be like that huh?”
Lowering his pen Elyar turned to Jereme, who had his eyebrow raised, and responded, “Like what?”
“Huh, nothing.” He stood there with his arms crossed, and this time he did look annoyed.
Shaking his head, Elyar went back to writing on his rock. Once it was finished and he was sure the weave had taken, he looked at the rock to see if it was going to crumble in his hands. Nothing happened so he figured it was fine. He then grabbed one of his first rocks to try their next experiment. Steadying himself he took a deep breath before smashing the rocks together. Again a thunderous cracking sound shattered the silence. But like before nothing happened.
By this time the sun was about gone removing their light source. Frustrated and a little angry, Elyar grabbed his stones and pushed passed Jereme in a huff heading toward his bag.
“Elyar!” Jereme called. But Elyar did not respond. He did not know why, but he suddenly felt furious. He shoved the rocks in his bag and walked out into the grass. He heard someone call his name, but he did not pay attention to who it was. His sight was tunneling. He only saw what was straight in front of him. His heart was pounding, sounds felt muffled. He wanted to scream and burn the world.
To release that pent up feeling, the boiling rock in his stomach that wanted to choke him, Elyar walked. He walked until he no longer saw the camp. Until the sun set. Alone as the wind swept the grass aside he plopped on the ground. The stars shone brightly without the moon stealing their glow. His breathing was loud and heavy as he tried to regain control of himself.
He knew his behavior was childish. There was no logical reason why he should be this angry. He knew Jereme was trying to help him. Help solve a mystery that Elyar was not even sure was a mystery. He was probably trying to solve something a more experienced calligromancer already knew. But for some reason he felt like a child when Jereme was talk ing to him. Just another area he had no control in.
There it was. That hot iron ball was growing in his gut again. Its wrath boiling over into his breathing and mind. Anger, raw and uncontrollable, rose in him. He was alone. No one could hear him scream. He drew his sword. Breath intensifying. The sword that he had held when he let Lyr escape. His chest was rising faster and faster. The sword that could not save Havol. A tear dropped from his eyes. Even with its blessings he was to weak. Yelling with all his might he raised his sword in the air and screamed, “eldsvoði!” He wanted the world to burn. To consume him so he did not have to feel his failure any more. No more lives needed to be lost because of him.
As he yelled he removed every barrier he could. Without knowing it he opened himself up to the weave. In his agony his soul united with the power that wove the fabric of the world together. Uniting as one the power coursed through him as his sword ignited projecting a crimson beam into the heavens. It was scorching hot singeing the grass nearest him. Blindingly bright, Elyar had to close his eyes before wrenching himself away from the weave. He stood for a second before collapsing on the ground from exhaustion. The world went black.