Bliath: Shattered (2 page)

A deep sigh escaped Fera as she climbed up on Oren, he returned it with one of his own, to let her know that he felt her pain.

Chapter 2

Hours had past Fera’s legs were sore from riding well through the day and into the first part of dusk.  Her stomach grumbled in protest along with the rest for her.  Oren stopped, knowing she had enough for now, he had too. Although Fera wasn’t heavy, the King and Markus packed three bags and tied them to the saddle.  Given the extra weight and, like Fera, he had not eaten, only stopping for water once, and he was done. 

Fera leaned down, resting her head on Oren’s neck, along his sleek mane.  She ran her hand up his neck causing him to shiver.  He loved that sensation; he could feel her love emanating in her touch.

“Ok I get it, we need to stop, I have no clue where we are at, when the stars come out, I think I can figure out where we are.  Markus would have a field day, I could see him now telling me, see Princess, I told you this is practical.”  Fera half laughed it out, before she realized it, tears fell on Oren, they sparkled against his coat.  “Oren, I would give anything to hear, I told you so.”  She slid off him, her legs buckled when she hit the ground.   Pain coursed through her; she opened her eyes to find Oren face to face with her. He was wide eyed and ears were up in alarm. 

“It’s ok, I am ok, we might have over done the ride today.”  She managed to get the words out.

He dipped his head lower letting Fera use his neck to help up. 

“Awe Oren, always the gentlemen, uh gentlehorse.  Let’s see if they packed us food.”  Fera smiled, as she clung to his neck.

Fera slowly relinquished her hold on Oren, going through the first pack, to find two books, a map of Bliath, and map of the constellations, and a small bag of coins.

“Well no luck in bag one.”   She shook her head.

Oren used all his focus and thought, “three” projecting it as loud as he could into her mind. 

“Oh three, Oren, I get it, well you could have said that from the get go.” She laughed.

  Fera went around him, opened the third bag, to find several small bundles, not caring what was in it, she grabbed the top bundle.  She opened it to find four sticky rolls, a faint smile graced her lips.  Even in her hasty departure, the castle cooks managed to let her know they loved her.  Oren nickered at her, she knew they are one of his favorites too.  She took one in her hand and fed it to him, promptly followed by another.   Fera quickly ate the third, looking at the forth, she knew 50/50 would be fair, but Oren did most of the work, she just had to hang on.

He refused the last one, he knew she was still hungry, he thought “YOU”.

As much as Fera wanted the stupid roll, she knew Oren would have to carry her through this, in all senses of carry she through. “No, you!  You are like 9 times my size and doing most of the work, plus you are the oddest horse in the world, since you refuse to eat grass, hay, and oats. Well, I guess you will eat oats if they are covered in sweet stuff.” She rambled out.

  He ate it, but felt guilty. Oren wrapped his neck around her.

She wrapped her arms back around him.  Softly whispering to Oren “I love you.” 

At that he pulled her closer.

  Night was upon them, Fera didn’t want to make a fire out of fear of it being spotted.  She took the tack off of Oren, unfolded the saddle blanket, then she looked for a spot to lay down.  Oren beat her to it, and without missing a beat, she covered him up, and then ducked under the blanket herself, leaning against him. With him she always felt safe and sound, giving into the calmness he brought her, Fera closed her eyes.

Sleep came easy, but the dreams came in a hard rush of pain.  It seemed her memories were not done torturing her.  They picked up where she had left them earlier.

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Markus opened the cover of the book, and on the inside was a detailed map of Bliath.  The butterflies flew mad with a mix of emotions in Fera’s stomach.  She read “Chapter One: The Prophecy”

Markus’s hand appeared, he turned several of the pages, “Sometimes Fera, you have to read ahead, before you can understand the beginning.” 

She looked down at Chapter 3 “The rise of the High Queen.”  She begun to read:

Over 1550 years ago, the now High Elven Queen Estreal, who was just over 300 years old, and seated under her father as The Crowed Princess, though she was 300, she did not look a day over 18. She was the most powerful energy harnesser the elves have ever seen.  Her father was of an unknown age, and her mother was said to have died at the hands of an Elemental. Leaving a bitterness between the two races.  Estreal was to take a mate in the next few moon cycles, since elves live long lives, they do not believe in the human tradition of marriage; they set up partnerships almost like affectionate business deals.  So if the tides of life change their heart, they can go on their ways, without much recourse.  Once in a blue moon, an elven couple will bind themselves to each other; it is the most powerful bond two creatures can share. They become one in almost every way.  Their heart beats as one. (To read more on Elven marriage and binding see the “Tome of Elven Rites and Rituals”.)

  Estreal, was presented with all of the most powerful High Elves, none caught her eye, she knew that she was expected to choose one.  Although, no one truly knows how she met the Power Elf, some speculate, it was when he left a meeting with her father at a security briefing but regardless, they meet.  It was highly frowned upon to be with someone out of your cast, and was not allowed for her being of noble birth to choose someone out of her cast.  As much as he didn’t want to choose her either it couldn’t be helped, bonding works like a magnet. A simple meeting can set the gears in motion.  Since she refused to pick a High Elf, Estreal’s father picked for her.  On the night before the partnership arrangements to be set forth, Estreal slipped out, and went to the great tree to ask for guidance and help, as did the Power Elf.   When they saw each other, the pull pushed them together.  By the next morning the kingdom was in an uproar, the princess was not in her room, and her bed had not been slept in.  Everyone was searching for her, when they found her; she was wrapped in the arms of the Power, both fast asleep at the foot of the tree.  The King outraged woke them, shouting for the Powers head.   To the shock of the king, and the kingdom, the Power bore the Princesses mark of magic on his right wrist.  The sacred tree had heard them, and answered, by completing the binding, the tree made the Power one with Estreal, giving him the rank of High Elven as well as the Princess' magical gifts, except energy harnessing.  He gave her his strength, insight, unparalleled tactical skills.  With both skill sets, a dangerous combination was born in Estreal.  Estreal, looked upon the greatest gift she was ever given not knowing what to call him.  He leaned forward whispering in her ear “Ilsar, my love, my name is Ilsar.”

Even the King in all his power could not go against, the spirits.  Estreal and Ilsar were inseparable.  Fifty years into their bonding the king became ill, , his body looked like that of a 70 year old human, but that could eons for an elf.  The King requested that Estreal and Ilsar take him to the Tree of Spirits.  When they placed the King at the base of the tree, lights seemed to flow around the King; wrapping themselves around him, pulling him into the tree. When the lights were gone, so was the King, he joined the many spirits that had gone before him.  A moon cycle of mourning had past for the elven people, then a coronation was held  for Estreal and Ilsar, normally only the blood descendant comes to rule but since the two were one, they would rule as one as well.

Fera looked up from the book with a grimace on her face her heart was heavy.  Markus sat down across from her.  “My dear Princess Fera, what is wrong, you look ill?  Are you sad over the kings death, or…” Fera held up a hand to stop him, she was not sad, she was scared.

“Markus, if the dwarves live a long time, and the elves even longer, how long will I live, how will I age?” 

Markus could see the worry across her face. “Princess, you are mostly elven, my guess is like most other half elves, your aging will slow into the same pattern as that of an elf at 18.  You will look young and beautiful for some time, so do not worry.” 

Fera was not thinking of her beauty or her youth, but of everyone that she loves, her father, the staff that were like her family, even Oren her horse, all of the people that she will outlive, that she will have to watch die at some point.  “How am I supposed to watch them all leave me, to only fall in love with others people that will come into my world, to watch them fade away as well?”  Her voice trembled slightly.

Markus put his hand over Fera’s, “Princess, your father is half dwarf, he will be around for a long time, I am elven, I will be here too.”  

That gave her little comfort, and Markus read it on her face, but she had to know, even if it is a lot for someone so young to bear, time in this case was not on their side, she would be 18 soon and he could see that her binding was already starting to break.

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Fera’s night was restless; she woke before dawn, in a cold sweat, as chills set in, reminding her to get up and keep moving.  Her dream was haunting her, and she knew that today, they would be hunting her.  They would now know she was not hiding anywhere in Thoren.  As she turned over to find Oren still asleep under her, she couldn’t help but think they were cut of the same mold.  Since normal horses don’t sleep much and he likes a full 6 to 8 hours that was odd - but then again, she was odd for a Princess.    

The moment she stood up, Oren felt her shift, and jumped to his feet, quiet comically, as if they

were under attack.

Fera giggled at the site of him¸ “Easy there tiger, we just need to get going.”

He sighed in relief.  Going over to the bags, Fera took another bundle out, unwrapping it she

found a few oatmeal bars, now normal oats were not a favorite of Oren, but when you drown

them in honey and add berries, how could you go wrong?  After a quick breakfast, Fera pulled

Out the map of Bliath, a small pang hits her chest as she saw the Valley of Thoran.  “Ok, Oran,”

He looked over her shoulder at the map, like he understands it.

”I looked at the stars last night, if I am reading it right, I think we are somewhere in here.  That being said, I think our best bet, is the veer a little more this way, and avoid Nevire, it is a bigger Kingdom, if we stay along the outskirts, there might be a smaller village that we could get supplies in.  I want news of what is going on, but we can’t draw attention to ourselves.  Father said, 'Trust no one.  Go north and seek the dwarves'.” Fera folded up the map and put it back in the bag.

She saddled up Oren, and climbed on.  She was sore, her soul raw, the actions of others chasing after her and catching up, but they press on.

When the sun is in the highest part of the sky, she stops them, by the edge of the Noren River

that flows through most of the middle and lower part of Bliath.  Sliding down, she feels dizzy,

her head is spinning a little.  Fera is sure she is just overcome by the stress of the last few days,

and the raw emotions of everything else.  After getting her bearings, she grabs another food bundle, dried fruit, after taking a few bites, her stomach starts to churn even more, giving up on eating, she gave Oren the rest of the fruit.  Washing her face with the crisp Noren water trying to take the edge off her dizziness with little avail, she mounts back up.  “Well Oren, since we slowed our pace, a little, I think we might as well keep going, you doing ok?”  Oren thinks “yes.” And in the next wave of thought he sends back to her “you?”  “I think I just need, I just things to be back to the way they were.”  Markus voice rings through her memories, and in her brain.
“You cannot go back, but you can go forward, don’t wish for the past, but a better future.  Be open to change, for if you slam the door on it, eventually the weight of it will break the door and might crush you. Leaving little left to hope for.”

After riding a bit longer another way of dizziness hits her harder than before, when she closes her eyes she is pulled back into the library, she can feel she is still on Oren in the middle of the Grerrien Forest, on a not so traveled path, but her mind could not help but be elsewhere.

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“Markus, so the High Queen fell in love with a Power, and because they were bound, making them one, he took her rank and power, and she took his skills?” 

“Yes Princess, but that is the last known bonding and it was a long time ago, a well recorded bonding.  I believe there have been others but, without record it is hard to tell.”

“Can a non elf, or a half elf bond?”   “Fera, don’t get caught up with the one romantic detail in this dark book, but to answer your question, I do not see why not, there have been old documents from the dwarves that say it has happened in their race.  Humans in the grand design of things, are fairly new, maybe when they evolve a little more, they might.”  Yes the one romantic detail in a dark book, but how can things be so dark when her world has so much light, and love in it?  “Markus, you tell me not to look back, but is that not what we are doing here”