2. Tomma
“FIRE!” The cry sliced through the stillness of the night, jarring me from my slumber. The air was already heavy with the all too familiar scent of smoldering new timbers and scorching flesh. The narrow dirt streets and mud caked alleys outside my home flooded with people and animals trying to avoid fires advance and find some refuge amidst the chaos. Fires were beginning to burn throughout our small village yet again. The inky darkness of the night sky was already vanishing above the raging firelight and ever lowering ceiling of smoke as flames leapt from one thatched roof to the next. The fire engulfed building after building as our small part of the world was slowly dissolving into the flickering tapestry.
Horses screamed in the distance as a resounding crash rose above the commotion. I feared our remaining work horses would be dead by morning if that was in fact the last of the barns collapsing. It was just another night in our village. Countless more would need to rebuild come dawns first light. My fellow guards muddled about trying to direct people to handful of underground access points, while making their own way to the village center. The center was one of the only above ground locations people could take refuge against the flames. There were no wooden structures within fifty paces of the main well, or at least there weren’t anymore. With the space and the water we could organize a few people to try to stop the fires relentless advance. Those unable to aid in the efforts moved off into the burrows beneath the village leaving the streets clear for us to maneuver.
I swept through the streets rounding up any stragglers, as the other guards set to organizing the evacuation and what volunteers there were into bucket lines. The running had become almost second nature at this point to so many of the populace that most of the streets were deserted. I stopped in the middle of the main thoroughfare and couldn’t help staring into the heart of the beast. Even from a ways off I could feel the heat against my face. I could hear the crackling, snapping and coughing of the fire as it charred and consumed all the timbers in its path. Wait, fires didn’t cough. I took off down the once familiar streets further into the blistering waves of heat and blinding smoke. Franticly, I shouted into the air. “Hello, is anyone still in here?” I could hear the coughing but still couldn’t gauge a direction.
“Help, please. She’s not, I can’t…” The voice broke, struggling to speak between fits of coughing.
It was enough. I took off at a sprint in the direction of the voice. A minute later I could make out a figure in the road, struggling to lift a smoldering timber which had collapsed into the street. The fire was all around her. I slowed as I drew close, and tore my shirt off, wrapping it around my hands as I closed the remaining distance. That’s when I saw it, the small form trapped under the beam. It was Janna, a daughter of one of the village’s hunters. I crouched down over the timber. “Be ready, as soon as I lift this you need to pull her to safety.” I grabbed onto the still glowing end of the beam and took as deep a breath as was possible. “Now!” I pulled with every ounce of my strength. My muscles screaming in protest, as the fabric around my hands began to smoke and blacken. Finally after what felt like forever it began to shift and inch upward off Janna’s unmoving body.
The timber crashed back to the ground Lissel pulled Janna’s small body clear. I quickly tossed the cloth from my hands as it began to ignite. “Lissel, what are you doing in this area? You live on the far side of the village. No one would have ever thought to come looking for you here.” I picked Janna up in my arms and without looking at Lissel motioned for her to follow me.
“Really, now? You want to discuss why I’m here now? Follow me, there is a shelter nearby.” She stalked off in front of me, not even trying to hide her frustration at my legitimate inquiry.
Lissel led the way through the streets. The ever present heat seared our backs until we finally came to a small hillock with a trapdoor tucked into its side. “In here, I’ll get the torch lit.” She pulled open the door and stepped into the darkness. A moment later the torch within sputtered and came to life, illuminating the small chamber. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light within I could see why she had chosen this shelter above any of the others we had passed so close too. What would normally be barren earthen walls were in actuality lined with shelf after shelf of bandages, poultices, and blankets. Cots filled the back half of the chamber and, almost lost in the shadows to the rear of the chamber two litters stood leaning against the wall. There was easily enough food and barreled water to last a small group a week or more.
Lissel bustled about the chamber quickly grabbing up handfuls of bandages and towels. “I’ve been stockpiling supplies in case of an emergency.” She answered the unspoken question that hung on my lips. “Quickly lay her here so I can check her injuries.” She dropped her bundles on the ground by the cot closest to the torch and gingerly knelt down by the bedside. I carefully laid Janna down on the cot, and moved the torch closer for Lissel. The shadows shifted and cast a purplish glow across Janna’s little face. “A little closer please, Tomma.”
I moved closer still and cringed as I saw the shadow lift revealing the stark reality that the purplish shadow was not a shadow at all. It was an ever growing bruise spreading rapidly across the young girls face and disappearing up into her hairline. The pained look on Lissel’s face was hard to ignore. She stood as I reached down to offer her a hand of comfort. “I need some water from the barrel back there, some more bandages for the laceration on her head and some of the herbs from the front, the ones with the white flowers on them. Will please get them for me, Tomma…and the dried yellow leaves.” She grabbed a mortar and pestle from a nearby shelf as I hustled to grab the requested ingredients.
I scoured the shelves. “Where are the leaves? I have the white flowers, but I can’t find the leaves.” The words had no sooner left my mouth and my searching eyes fell upon the yellowing leaves, dried and neatly stacked. Each leaf was easily the size of a man’s open hand, how I could have missed them was beyond me. “Never mind.”
In a matter of moments Lissel crumbled the leaves and smashed the delicate flowers into an earthy paste and began gently dabbing on it Janna’s injuries. “She’s been learning her letters, every day she takes lessons with me, such a smart girl.” Lissel stopped for a moment, and looked up at me with an almost startled expression. “Oh Tomma, please, I can handle this. You need to go help the others. There are fires to put out and people to get organized. Please we’ll be fine here for a bit.”
“Are you sure? I don’t think anyone would question me staying guard based on the circumstances.” I tried hard not to gesture to Janna’s motionless body.
“Tomma go, help everyone else. I’ll stay here and tend her wounds, and we will not go anywhere until you come back and let us know it is safe. Agreed?” Between her tone and that she was already back to work focusing her attention to Janna’s needs, I took the hint and made my way back out into the street.
“All right, but stay inside and keep this door closed. I’ll be back here in an hour, two at the most. Then we can get both of you moved somewhere with a little more light.” The door was already swinging closed as I finished speaking.
Back out in the streets, the fires were dying down, and the sporadic hiss of steam as buckets of water were thrown onto the remaining flames broke through the otherwise eerie silence. The guards finished leading the last of the villagers down into the tunnels as I approached the main well. “Tomma, where you been?” I looked up to see Samual raise a hand in greeting. He then turned his back to me as he helped one of the injured elders move along down the street.
The village was unsettling when it was this quiet. Everyone, save a handful of guards, were all underground, waiting patiently for the safety of dawn. I walked back towards my home to see what, if anything, the fire had spared. The inferno had consumed most of my little house, only the bedroom in the back survived the destruction. The main room was completely lost to the fire damage. Even the door now lie on the ground, char under my feet. It was still standing though and where I lay my head still had timbers, even if the thatch was all but gone. Thatch I could replace and the walls I could reinforce. Many villagers lost far more this night.
I walked the streets to Lissel’s home. The flames spared most of the structure and her home would most likely be one of the first repaired. Being one of the original families that had funded the expedition certainly had its benefits. Most of the settlers had come in the hopes of staking a small piece of the world for their families and improving their lot. Her family however, had provided the original animals, timber and provisions for all the families. While she wasn’t on the council due to her young age, her word held almost as much weight as the entire council of elders.
The normally soft beige dirt of the roads, stained with water and soot, now looked almost black. The dark coloration a constant reminder to me of the pain inflicted upon us by an unseen foe. We stood no chance. Our enemies came from the sky, attacking without reason or warning. Each time the attacks were the same. The guards never even saw the enemy to raise an alarm when suddenly the buildings were alight. I made a quick check of the area to ensure the remaining embers were extinguished. The ever lightening horizon told me it was time to go get Lissel and Janna from the shelter.
As the sun just began to crest to the north, I quietly ducked back into the shadowed recess of the shelter. As my eyes adjusted I saw Lissel sitting on the floor her head rested on the edge of the cot. Moving towards the back I was careful not to make any noise, they both looked to be sleeping peacefully. Given the events of the night if they could sleep I would let them get a few more minutes. Only as I stood motionless did I hear the ragged breathing and notice the almost imperceptible shaking of Lissel’s shoulders. “She never woke up.” She looked up at me from the ground, her face red and the tears that ran down her checks reflected the flickering torchlight in the streaked soot. I lowered myself onto the ground next to her and put an arm about her shoulders. I could feel her trembling in my arms as she cried.
“You did everything you could. If you hadn’t found her there, she would have been another nameless…” My voice trailed off as I realized there was no sensitive way to finish that thought. “Janna wasn’t scared or alone. You were with her. Sometimes that is all we can hope for in times such as these.” I stroked her hair as she leaned her head against my shoulder and cried for a while.
“I was bringing her home. Her father asked me to teach her. He wanted her to learn her letters so she could be more than a hunter if she wanted. She was so excited. She had just finished reading her first story. I didn’t realize how late it was. I told her I would bring her home so she could show her father.”
“We’ll find him. We can help him through this. It’s not …” She cut my thoughts off midsentence, her head shaking from side to side.
“Stop. Just stop, please, you’re not listening. The fires broke out and Janna ran ahead. I tried to stop her, but she took off towards home. She was screaming in the road calling for him when I caught up. The roof had collapsed in. I could see him in the flames, trapped under the timbers. She saw him die. We both did. I didn’t know what else to do so I grabbed her and ran. I’m so tired of having to run.” She sniffled once more and sat up. “We need to stop this, and we can’t wait for distant help that may or may not be coming.”
She stood up and brushed herself off. Lissel reached down and gently pulled the blanket up over Janna. She stood motionless for a moment holding the girls tiny hand in her own. “I’m going to the Pyrians. We need help and they are only a few days away. The council can either send an envoy with me, or I will go by myself. This has to end…for all our sakes.” Her eyes blazed in the dying torchlight. I had never seen her look so determined. She released Janna’s hand, laying it carefully back on the cot.
I sat in silence as the torch guttered one final time and then extinguished. She was right of course. The Pyrians were probably the best, if not only, course of action. None of us wanted to admit it but we had stepped into the middle of a blood feud that was older than any of us. When our ancestors had gone to the Pyrians, it had made us a target. Living on the Pyrian lands meant that the founders needed to make an arrangement with the Pyrian Leader if they wanted their small band to survive. As unavoidable as it had been that one act had chosen our side in their endless conflict. Like it or not this was the price we must paying.
Each generation had tried to contact the Naralis in the hopes of showing we had no ill intentions. The Naralis turned away every attempt. The envoys never even set foot inside the Naralis capitol. The Naralis were warriors and until we had a worthy candidate to challenge them for the right to speak, our attempts would continue to fall on deaf ears. At least the Pyrians were willing to have an open dialog. They had some sort of code of honor, and would allow us within their city gates. Yet on both sides there was little to nothing that we could offer in exchange for lasting peace. A fact that neither side hesitated to remind us of regularly.
I propped the trapdoor open. Out in the world beyond the sun had broken free of the tree line and begun its daily ritual of climbing ever higher into the molten silver sky. Trails of black smoke spiraled upward, a faint reminder of the night’s terror. A handful charred bodies still littered the streets. Poor souls who had not run fast enough or had gone back to save some keepsake and given all for a trinket.
In the faint light that found its way into the hidden depths of this small cavern, I wrapped Janna’s tiny body in a blanket. I carefully picked up the small bundle in my arms and made my way out into the streets. I couldn’t do much for her at this point. I could, at least, ensure she received some kindness in her passing. Out in the streets the clerics walked from one corpse to the next, giving final blessings over each as the guards tossed them onto the passing carts. The carts were bound for the pyre outside the main gates. There was a sad irony to it really. The priests consigned the dead to flames when so many of the dead were so because of the flames.
In times such as these we could hope for little dignity in death. Even the most respected couldn’t hope for a proper burial with so much death. There just wasn’t time. Our dead would never be carrion for the crows though. Disease would spread like wildfire if we didn’t dispose of the dead quickly. Each day the number of dead grew and the number of those who had fled rose almost as steadily.
Many of the villagers were only just coming out of hiding. Their faces covered in soot and dirt, streaked by another night of tears. Children clung tightly to their parents legs. Too afraid to wander far for fear that the demons of the night might return, and steal them away. Or so the stories went. Their small cherubic faces peering out from folds in their mother’s skirts, or out from the rare rag doll that had survived thus far. Many of the men were grabbing axes and getting ready to head out into the forest to once again begin cutting down green lumber so the rebuilding might start anew. Every morning was an exercise in futility as the same dance played day after day. Sad eyes watched me as I passed by, each parent hugging tightly to their child, as if to make sure that it wasn’t theirs in my arms.
The pyre was burning strong as I approached. Clerics stood around it making their prayers and granting everlasting peace of those given to the flames. We were all raised on the stories of the gods, but they were of little comfort in these dark times. How could so many have faith when our children screamed as the world around them burned? Faith was overrated when it left believers to be slaughtered like livestock. All their prayers had gone unanswered. No mighty hand of protection, no vengeful spirit, no sign of the gods at all. If they did exist they abandoned us to our own fate and no amount of words would save us. Still I let them say the words over her as I laid her gently into the fire. “Time to go home now little one, your family is waiting.” The smoke stung my eyes. I turned quickly and headed back into the village proper.
“I know you sent out a plea to the capital, but it could be months! We don’t have that kind of time. How many more people have to die before we do something?” I could hear Lissel’s voice ringing out clearly from within the chapel. Everyone knew the call to the army was sent out a fortnight ago. The capital was on the southernmost edge of the continent though. It would take more than a moon for the plea to reach the city, and almost as long for the forces to gather and head out…if the capitol sent them out. To my knowledge the church never got involved in the cares of the populace here at the northern edge of the world.
The same church which had sent out a dozen groups in the hopes of claiming more of the world for humanity all in the name of the gods. Only two of the groups had managed even a minor foothold. As each of the others fell, there was nothing, not even a whisper of help from their supposed benefactor. That had been generations ago. Perhaps now, with villages established, the church would hear our desperate appeal.
I lingered in the village center pacing close to the chapel. The voices within were quieter now, and it was hard to make out more than a word or two. A small breakfast fire crackled gently over by a section of burned out buildings. Many of the families huddled closely around it weeping softly and clinging tightly to those that they had left. A collection to the far side spoke angrily in hushed voices, hate flaring in their eyes with an intensity that rivaled the rising flames of the previous night. “We need to strike back!” A voice proclaimed from the group, loud enough to draw gasps from the few in the crowd who still had any wits about them.
“If we strike back, it will only get worse. What do you even propose we strike back at, the sky? They come like thieves in the night. The guards didn’t even see them this past night. Only the torches as they fell from the sky.” Another voice from within the pack spoke more sense. A sea of disheartened and pain filled eyes stared at them in disbelief as they looked up. No one in the assembly had heart to return the defeated gazes. The sadness was nearly palpable as it caused the outspoken few to move quickly off further towards the outskirts of the city, away from the crushing tide of pain and loss.
Without the added commotion of the rabble rousers I could begin making out piece of the conversation again. “We can’t…once a generation only.” I think the voice belonged to Mikal, the oldest of the elders. He was only three generations removed from the villages founding, and clung very tightly to the words of the Pyrian agreement. “Ongrin…burned to the ground.”
“I understand that, but we need help.” Lissel was clearly not intending to back down. “If none of you want to help our village, I will go myself. Do you have any better ideas?” Only she would dare to speak to a member of the council in such a manner.
The mutterings that followed were unintelligible, but the door swung open, and within the doorway Lissel stood triumphant. “Ah Tomma, just the person I need. I need two guards to accompany us to the Pyrian capital. We leave at first light tomorrow.”
At dawn five gathered at the well before heading for Drakenhelm. Kristo, and Lija, two well respected city elders, Lissel, Samual and I, no one spoke as we packed our bags and gathered up what supplies we could. Mikal, who spoke so adamantly against our excursions, was conspicuously absent for our departure. The sun was high overhead and the Weeping Moon just sinking below the southern mountains, heralding in the second half of the day. It was a later start then we had hoped for, but given the situation we needed to make sure we had planned for every eventuality. Our destination was known only to a handful, and of those I doubted if any thought it would actually bear fruit. The faces around us looked more disheartened than ever. I could only imagine that they thought we were fleeing like so many before. There was no joy, no fan fair, as we set out, just grim determination to guide our steps.
It would be no small task to beseech Lord Kahlian for whatever aid he might be willing to grant us. Pyrians were prideful people, preferring to keep to themselves and not deal with our kind at all. The Pyrian Lords never offered protection in the original agreement, only use of the land for as long as we could maintain our payment. Time would tell if there was any aid to be given. We had to hope there was or we had already failed. The Naralis were no friend to the Pyrian people so there might be a chance, if we could play that card successfully. The tribute and renewal of the agreement had been less than two moons ago. We swore fealty to the High Lord Kahlain and he should want to know of the attacks on his land.
It would take two grueling days before we would reach the city, if we reached the city at all. Such thoughts didn’t help, but try as I might I couldn’t push them from my mind. The attacks on our village had been growing more frequent and the death toll steadily rose with each passing night. If a single Naralis saw us we would be dead before we even saw the attack coming. It was hard not to think of how many would die in our absence, however short a time.
The winds raged that night. The twin moons both near full shimmered and disappeared sporadically behind the racing clouds. Our small band sought what shelter we could under the huge boughs of an ancient elder tree. We sat huddled under the few furs and pelts we had brought with us. We feared to light a fire for risk of drawing attention to our camp, and so we waited for the howling winds to die down.
“Tomma?” Lissel had moved away from the others and as standing close at hand. “Might I sit?”
“Of course.” I jumped to my feet and motioned her to my vacated space. “Please, it is quite protected from the wind.” I couldn’t believe how stupid that had sounded. In the moonlight I could just see Samual and the elders look over their shoulders at us. Samual shook his head as he chuckled and went back to his skin of ale.
Lissel sat and leaned back against the trunk of the tree. “Thank you.”
“It’s the least I can do. I’m afraid the ground is a bit damp, but at least…”
“I wasn’t referring to the seat, Tomma. Thank you for helping me… with Janna. Thank you for taking care of her when I couldn’t.” Her voice was a whisper, barely audible over the moaning of the winds.
“You took care of her. You were with her when she needed you most…all I did was help gather herbs.” I had only been there a few minutes and I hadn’t been there at the end.
“I couldn’t stay in there, with her. I was so angry. I had to leave, to do something. You made sure she wasn’t forgotten.” Her eyes shone in the moonlight. “So thank you.”
Though the winds howled through the night never abating, one by one we eventually drifted off into fitful slumber. The gusting winds continued even as the sun began to rise in the northern sky. The clouds were heavy and leaden as we broke camp and trudged on in the direction of the city, nibbling sparingly on our provisions. The weary looks on each of my companion’s faces told me that they had equally restless nights. If we kept up this pace, we would likely reach Drakenhelm by midmorning the following day. The wind was at our back so though cold and biting it would not slow our travel. It was odd for so chill a wind to be blowing so late in the summer. An ill omen to be sure. The day passed without more than the occasional stumble from Kristo and before long we were once again looking for shelter from the winds.
When we awoke the sun had just crested the northern forest and the winds which had once again howled through the night had finally abated. Only a soft breeze remained and a shimmering silver sky. We quickly broke camp and continued on our way. The uncertainty of what might have happened in the village in our absence nagged at the back of all our minds.
We could see the city long before we were upon it, six gleaming spires of black reaching high into the sky. Samual and I both gasped at the sheer magnitude of the sight before us. I had never seen the likes of anything like it before, and although still at least an hour or more away the sight was awe inspiring. The closer we drew the more detail we began making out. Bridges of delicate stonework connected the spires of many of the towers. The arches and buttresses of the gates each intricately carved and inlaid with quartz and obsidian in flowing patterns. Windows of crystal in more colors then most of us had ever seen dotted the lofty towers.
Our craftsmen could not in their wildest dreams, imagine such delicate beauty. The gates were at least fifteen feet high and at least ten feet thick. As we passed beneath them I could have sworn I saw some of the carvings shift as if too watch us as we passed. A fine mist hung at both sides of the gates and large wolves patrolled the ramparts. This wasn’t just a city, it was a fortress, the likes of which I could never have imagined. Seeing it all sent a chill down my spine.