Enaya: Solace of Time (8 page)

Chapter 13

A Time for Peace

Dywnwen stood on the balcony. Her hair blew in the wind and her body was stiff from the anxiety that had passed through her earlier, scared that Roland would never come back. She placed her chin in her hands as she watched the villagers below come in and out of the castle.

Then, as the breeze slowed down, so did her mind. She had to believe that everyone was well, that they would win. The Lucian Empire was known for destruction, but their armies had to be diminishing, at least since the Barter Wars when the Lucian Empire attacked the Mirialk Kingdom in the middle of their trade routes to Walsh. This set up a devastating war that lasted almost three years, until the Lucian Empire retreated into the hills of Agorith and surrendered all their armory that was stolen. But that was years ago.

Someone screamed.

Dywnwen’s eyes grazed across the kingdom until she spotted the male with the loud harmonic voice shouting and pointing. She stood up straight and squinted over the kingdom.

“They’re back!” he screamed again.

Dywnwen leaned over the balcony and peered into the distance. Riding over the hill was Roland and Aidan. The knights followed. Dywnwen smiled, tears dripping down her face. A sudden rush of relief graveled over her heart as she turned and took off down her bedroom, down the great hall, down a staircase, and through the double-arched doors. She ran down the street, pushing through the crowd. She rushed through a pile of hay that was stacked on the corner, and before she could get to the end of the street, Roland was already off his horse waiting to meet her.

She jumped into his arms, her body forcing the armor to cling together. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck and she kissed him. Her mouth pressed against his dry lips, her hands running through the back of his long hair as she kissed him. She pulled away, tears in her eyes.

“I was so worried,” she said, her face bright red.

“So was I,” Roland replied, “worried that I would never see you again.”

They kissed again. Several of the knights looked around the kingdom to see women and children rushing out of their homes. The knights rushed forward, greeting their loved ones in hugs and kisses.

Nile and Leo stepped to the side, unsure of what to do. Leo lowered his head until the sights of public display of affection were over. The two young men were very saddened, because they two were once little boys who’d run out of their homes to greet their fathers with a hug and a kiss.

Dywnwen pulled away from Roland and looked up at her father, the king, who was perched high on the horse. “I’m so glad you made it back, Father.”

He chuckled. “Thank Nile and Leo. They saved me.”

Nile pinched his lips together and nodded at her. Dywnwen released Roland and walked over to the two, gathering them both in one big bear hug.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Nile said.

Leo giggled.

“What?” Dywnwen asked, pulling back and staring at Leo.

“I thought I had something funny to say,” he replied and kept giggling.

Dywnwen rolled her eyes and walked back to Roland, burying her body in his arms.

“Walsh is destroyed. Seraph has risen. We brought who was left here. We will discuss rebuilding Walsh later,” Roland said.

“What you decide I will abide by,” Dywnwen replied.

Roland turned to the crowd. He noticed a few of the women and children standing aloft, crying. One woman with reddish-blonde hair and dirt around her eyes held her sons to her hips with each arm. Roland remembered her husband and how he had fallen to the hairy legs of the arachnoid. All Roland could offer was a smile.

The mother broke down and fell to her knees, pulling her two sad sons into her arms. Roland got up on his horse and pulled Dywnwen up with him. “Walsh has been destroyed. All the survivors are with us. Please show kindness by taking them into your homes and feeding them, giving them a place to stay for the night. We will make arrangements until further notice.”

At once, the kingdom swallowed in the weak. Husbands and wives opened their arms and their homes to those who had suffered the destruction of Walsh. Nile turned to a mother with a baby in her arms and her young son holding her leg. “You can stay with me.”

She forced a sad smile on her face, but agreed. Leo offered the same hospitality to two young knights who were covered in blood. They nodded, then the people of Woodlands entwined in the crowd with those of Walsh, reaching for hands and introducing themselves.

“Follow me,” Nile said. He started walking toward his home, with the mother and the two children following behind.

***

An hour had passed. Nile walked into his bedroom, where the woman was holding her baby and the boy were sitting on the bed. They had made pleasantries when Nile offered his bed to them. He carried in a pail of water. A rag was sitting on the rim of the pail. He set the pail of water down by the bed and knelt down to the woman.

“May I?” Nile asked.

She glanced to her son, her eyes red from crying, and agreed.

“I’m Firtha, by the way. That’s Milos and my baby is Cadona.”

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Nile said.

He pulled off her slippers and dipped the rag into the lukewarm water. He squeezed the water out, then pulled the woman’s right foot up to him and began to wash her dirty foot.

“I’m sorry about your loss.”

Firtha caught a deep breath. “It’s not your fault. Rumors had spread from the West that the Lucian Empire was going to attack sooner or later.”

“My father was a knight. Alexander Whitman. He led Woodlands into many battles. I haven’t seen him in a long time now. I assume he is dead.”

“I’m sorry,” Firtha replied.

“It’s fine.” Nile continued to wash. He glanced over to Milos and smiled. “How old are you, Milos?”

“Four,” he replied.

“You’re getting old,” Nile joked.

Firtha smiled at her son. “He has his father’s eyes.”

Nile dipped the rag into the water and washed her left foot. Firtha winced in pain as Nile gripped around her ankles.

“I’m sorry,” Nile said, wincing as well.

“I twisted it. We were inside the castle when the ceiling crashed down. I ran, holding my kids, and tripped over some stones.”

Nile grunted in pain.

“You never told us your name.”

“Nile Whitman,” he replied, dipping the rag again.

“And you’re family?”

“Well, I’m only twenty-one. Umm, my brother and mother were murdered several years ago by the Lucian Empire. I’m not married or anything.”

“Such a shame. You’re a very handsome and sweet young man,” Firtha said.

Nile glanced up at her and shrugged. “I had nobody to take me in or wash my feet when my mother and brother died, and my father had been absent. I always told myself that I would treat people how I wanted to be treated. You lost your husband; the least I can do is wash your feet and provide you a place to stay.”

“Why?”

“When I was a child, my father brought home a friend. He’d been shot with two arrows on the road. My father brought him home so he could die peacefully. Before he died, my mother washed his feet. It always stuck with me.”

“It’s relaxing,” Firtha said, rocking the baby.

Nile sat the rag down. “All done, it’s your turn, Milos.”

Milos kicked off his old, rugged boots. His little toes were covered in dirt and there were scratches up to his ankles. Nile’s feet looked like that when he was a boy. Nile began to wash his feet, but Milos laughed.

“Does that tickle?” Nile joked.

The boy kept giggling, his chubby cheeks turning the color of roses. Nile’s heart warmed. He dipped the rag, then squeezed it over the boy’s left foot. A stream of dirt rolled down his foot and in between his toes.

Firtha smiled at her son.

“It’s just me here, so you can stay as long as you like. I figure they are going to put people in the stables. You can sleep here. I’d like the company anyways.”

Tears streamed down Firtha’s face. “You are so kind.”

“I’m just trying to do the right thing. It’s time for peace. Everybody needs it.”

Nile released Milos’s foot.

“Squeaky clean?” Milos asked, showing that he had no front teeth.

“Squeaky clean,” Nile replied.

He got up, grabbed the pail, and walked out of the room. A few moments later, Nile returned with a crib. He placed it beside the bed, grabbed a quilt off the rocking chair in the corner of the room, and placed it in the crib.

“The crib was mine. My father made it and my brother used it. Is there anything else I can get you?” Nile asked.

The woman smiled. “No, we appreciate your hospitality.”

“Just blow out the candles when you’re ready to go to bed,” Nile said, and left the room.

He walked over to an ancient door. Nile took a deep breath as he pushed on the old wood. It nearly stuck in place. He then leaned his shoulder into it and pushed. The door creaked open. He stumbled over to the bed and sat down. He hadn’t slept in here since his brother was alive. He kicked off his boots and lay back on the bed, relaxing as best he could, and he closed his eyes.

Chapter 14

Ripples in the Air

These crows flew in front of me and I panicked. I screamed, because that’s all I knew how to do. They landed in front of me, one as crippled and ugly looking as the other. What were they doing? They were pecking at the dirt, eating worms. I remember watching them and knowing something was wrong.

Then one crow touched another and they stuck together, like glue. Then the wing was completely absorbed into the side of the other crow, like it swallowed it or something. Another crow was pulled into it. Then another, and it kept happening until a figure formed, standing in front of me.

This figure was taller than my father, with a black torn cape that rippled in the wind. His armor was black leather. It looked so wet and it shined. He had gray skin and smelled like death. His ears were pointy, his hair gray, but those eyes, those horrible eyes . . . they were black and hollow, like space.

My heart was beating fast. He lifted up his black sword. It had to be crafted from Seraph himself. The sword alone scared me. When he lifted his sword, pointing to the sky, Ard’Ols appeared from nowhere. They started marching toward Woodlands.

I screamed.

Isaiah heard me. I know he did.

I have to believe that my mother heard me too and that they were on their way toward me, but this figure was watching me as if I was prey. He could smell my fears. I felt it.

“Mother!” I screamed.

He said, “No use screamin’.” His voice was ghastly. He licked his lips, and there was something sick about the way he moved. His head bobbed like a bird and his tongue was black.

He started walking toward me, his hand outstretched . . .

Nile woke up to sudden knocks on the door. The sun was blaring through the window and into his face. He pulled himself up out of bed; his back was stiff from the way he had rested through the night.

The banging on the door continued.

Nile slipped on his boots and stumbled to the door. He opened it, and standing outside waiting on him were Achwin and Githimat. Nile held up his hand to block the sun. Achwin and Githimat had been knights for as long as Nile could remember. They served Alexander Whitman on several crusades and they have gained a decent respect for Nile. Achwin had promised Alexander to look out for Nile since Alexander’s disappearance several years ago.

“You’ve been summoned to the castle,” Achwin said.

“What for?” Nile asked.

“That’s between you and the king,” Githimat said.

Nile stepped back and looked into his bedroom. The family he had taken in was still sleeping. He stepped outside, pulled the door shut, and walked up the street to the castle. Achwin discussed the previous events, but was not surprised by the use of Enaya. Githimat discussed that he had seen the elements of earth and water several years ago and that his greatest desire was to see them all. Nile didn’t say much—he only listened, but his curiosity was killing him.

When they got to the castle, Nile walked down the Great Hall and into the throne room, where King Aidan and Roland awaited. The king was sitting down, his long red cape stretching out over the throne and draping down to the floor. Roland was standing up straight.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Nile said, bowing.

“You know you don’t bow to me,” the king joked. “Please, please, get up.”

Nile got to his feet.

“We called you here,” Roland said, “because of your comments to me about Enaya. You said you used it. You must explain this to the king.”

Nile gulped. “I will.”

“And where did you go?” Roland asked.

“I don’t know,” Nile replied, glancing toward the king.

“Something about tall castles and giant dragons that carry people,” Roland said.

“Oh my,” mumbled the king.

“Well, yes, but I don’t know where. It couldn’t have been of this world. These dragons transport people. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

“You see, my lord, he has been exposed to Enaya,” Roland said. “I told you that there are catastrophic circumstances.”

“Such as?” The king asked.

“Three thousand years ago, when a magician by the name of Polydorus Nectarious created the Enaya elements, he tested them out. In the scriptures, he talked about the element of time, in which he states that if you use it under the wrong circumstance you can alter time. By altering his own past, he created a chain of events that led up to his young death at six hundred sixty-seven.”

“Is Polydorus Nectarious Seraph?” Nile asked.

“No,” Roland said. “Polydorus Nectarious created Seraph.”

“How does Seraph have a history with me?” Nile asked.

The king interrupted. “It was with your father and your mother, many years ago. I will not deprive your father of the privilege to tell you the story, assuming he is still alive. I can say that he is responsible for bringing
this
Enaya here.”

The king stopped. “Alexander Whitman brought that cursed thing here when he killed Nereus, one of the commanders for the Lucian Empire. Nereus was evil and hell-bent on destroying this planet and everything with it. We kept that thing buried up in the forest away from here so that we wouldn’t be attacked. How did you find it?”

“I pushed the statue over,” Nile said. “It was there.”

The king sighed. “We have tried so hard to keep that
thing
hidden from people and evil. The kingdoms had made a pact to guard the elements.”

“Then if it is that bad, why did you use it yesterday?”

“We only use that in time of need. Walsh was in that time,” the king replied.

“The reason we ask you here, Nile Whitman is to show us where you used it. It’s hard to understand what may happen.” Roland said.

“Carry on,” the king said, and waved them off.

***

The colored leaves of late summer became trampled as the horses pushed up the mountain and across a stream that flowed into Woodlands. The sudden sounds of nature echoed throughout the forest. Roland came to a sudden stop, brought one leg over onto the ground, and then stepped off his horse. Nile did the same.

Nile walked to the stream, his horse neighing behind him. They said a horse could sense fear in someone and if that was the case, Nile was sweating in fear. Nile leaned over, dipping his hands into the stream. It was freezing. He brought his hands out and wiped them on his pants. He sat down, nervous.

“I must tell you something,” Roland said.

Nile turned to him.

“I never much liked you. I know the rumors. I know that you love Dywnwen. I’ve known for a long a time now. It hurts, you know. To see your face and know that it was you she once loved.”

Nile gulped.

Roland took a deep breath. “Say something.”

“What do you want me to say?” Nile asked.

“Is it true? Do you still love her?”

Nile hesitated.

“Answer me,” Roland said.

Nile choked on his own words.

“Answer me!” Roland screamed.

“Yes. I still love her.”

“You do,” Roland said. “The truth is, I think she stills loves you too. I can tell when your name is brought up.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“When we were together last night she only talked about you and if you served well in battle. She talks about you often. She loves you. With that said, you’ll have to forgive me.”

“For what?” Nile asked.

Roland smiled. “For not killing you sooner.”

Nile’s hand found its way around the handle of his sword.

“I trust a man who has a legacy to uphold, such as yourself, acknowledges this?”

“I believe I do,” Nile said coldly.

Roland rushed to Nile, his sword making one big
swoosh
as it tore out of its leather sheath. Nile spun around, leaves being kicked to his face, but he managed to see the shimmer of Roland’s blade come up through the air. Nile brought his sword up and they kissed each other. Roland swung again, but Nile blocked and they held their stances, gazed upon the other—one the lion, the other the gazelle.

“Good form,” Roland said, quenching in satisfaction.

Nile pushed his blade off. “I learned from my father.”

“You know I can’t let you live,” Roland said.

“Why?” Nile asked, covered in fear.

Roland thrust his sword forward. Nile parried. “You’ve used it. You’ve used Enaya.”

Nile ran around a tree. Roland swung his blade into the mighty oak and struggled to pull it out. Nile came around the tree and rushed to his horse. Roland pulled the sword from the bark and charged Nile. His horse trotted away.

Roland brought the weapon around him, meeting Nile’s in midair. The two danced around each other, their swords clashing into thunderous sounds of hell. Roland moved so quick that he tricked Nile and came from behind him, kicking him down.

Nile rolled to his back and Roland’s sword pricked the ground between his legs. Nile scooted back, found his sword, and sprung himself forward onto his feet, hitting Roland’s blade.

“Why did you use it?” Roland asked.

“I don’t know. I never knew. It just happened.”

Clash!

Their swords sparked.

Roland threw a punch into Nile’s face. Nile stumbled backward and staggered to his footing. He sprang forward to block another strike by Roland. They brought their swords together. The steel blades pressed against each other, and Roland leaned forward, glaring into Nile’s eyes as if he could read his soul. Then the air rippled like water.

The air between them vibrated and a giant beast formed between the two, pushing them away from each other. It smacked Nile straight in the nose and pushed him backward. When he finally caught his balance, he glanced at the beast that attacked him, and to his dismay, standing over a hundred stories high was a building. One of the same buildings Nile saw in the “other world” the other day.

“What the hell?” Roland yelled from the other side.

Nile rushed around the building, but came to a stop as another building formed. The stone layout was constructed wonderfully, and large oval windows stared at Nile like vulture’s eyes. He saw his reflection in the dark tinted glass. He stumbled around; searching for Roland, but a new architecture appeared, stretching into the mountains.

The horses kicked in the air, neighing. Nile’s horse took off toward Woodlands. Roland grabbed his horse by the reins and quickly grappled up on it. He looked around the forest, and pushing trees down to the ground, a giant wall appeared, separating these buildings from the jungle around them.

Nile ran toward Roland. “Wait!”

“You’re on your own,” Roland said. His face was as cold as winter. He turned and rode off.

Nile stopped, staring at Roland as he left him there. This kingdom continued to build by the ripples in the air, until Nile looked up and saw ripples that formed into flying dragons, and people starting appearing, and lampposts and wheeled forms of transportation. There were loud noises, humming sounds, distant music playing, people talking, but Nile ignored all that. The only thing he could see was Roland, riding off, leaving him here to die.

Then a street appeared, filled with people. The people jumped to the sides, pressing their limp, nervous bodies against the wall and glass that surrounded them, and Roland rode in the middle of them, until a wall appeared, smacking into the horse. Roland fell from his steed and hit the ground with a hard thump.

Vibrations continued, bringing in newer things. People were being pulled in by the dozens of ripples that formed in this area. The skyscrapers continued to grow. Roland’s horse charged out of this city, its hoofs smacking against the grass, but then ripples formed around the hoofs, and a concrete stretch extended into the city, and the horse lost its balance and fell. Vibrations continued, and a child appeared in front of the rolling horse, and then more vibrations appeared and a crowd of people transformed, grabbing the kid out of the way.

Nile rushed to Roland, bringing the knight up to his feet with both his hands. People were murmuring behind them. Nile glanced over his shoulder to see these people staring at them, but they were just as scared as they were. Nile turned toward the crowd and stepped back, his body flattening against a wired gate.

Roland gulped.

Then the cries of children started to echo through the city.

It was Silvago.

One of the dragons lowered, and Roland grabbed Nile’s arm. They stared at the beast as it faced them, and through the glass, they could see people pressed against it, staring at them. The large shiny body of the dragon continued to lower behind a few buildings.

Loud footsteps marched down an alley. The shoes tapped against the concrete, sounding like multiple horses riding down the terrace of Woodlands. Six soldiers marched out of the alley. They had their hand cannons raised to Nile and Roland. Their formation was so quick, so smooth.

“Nile,” Roland muttered.