The Exiled King

Chapter 9 - War's Footprint

The guardians had swiftly moved west and were now at the coast, where open sea stretched out seemingly endlessly. However, they all knew that somewhere, beyond the horizon, lay Anhua—the kingdom of legend that none of them had set foot in before.

Down the coast lay a small fishing town—so small that it was unnamed on the map given by the elven royals. However, as they neared the town, they quickly saw that something was wrong.

It was the smell that hit them first. A sickeningly foul scent emanated from the town—the scent of decay and ashes. Jason gagged, then clamped his hands over his face. He looked around and saw the others sporting similar looks of disgust. Altein had thrown his cloak over his mouth and nose, but judging by his expression, Jason guessed that wasn't very effective in blocking the stench.

"W-What is this smell?!" Lirya cried.

A moment of silence ensued and Jason saw the others' faces looked as confused as his own probably did.

Then Aidan and Altein spoke up in unison.

"It's the smell of death." They said, a grim shadow over their faces.

As they entered the town, the smell strengthened and they soon learned where it came from.

It was the corpses that Jason saw first. Crumpled upon the ground were the townsfolk, faces forever twisted in agony and hardly recognisable. Horrible gashes marred them all and the ground was a dried crimson colour. Flies buzzed over the corpses and it appeared as though wild animals had snuck in not long after the massacre and had taken some of the flesh. In some places, the bones were visible amongst the decaying flesh and maggots crawling around on the corpses.

Jason dropped to his knees and vomited, breathing heavily and gagging again as the pungent scent assaulted his senses.

The next thing he knew, Altein was by his side, giving him rough pats on the back and handing him a waterskin. Altein was saying something, but Jason registered nothing but the gentle tones of his voice as he drank the water and tried to clear the unpleasant taste of vomit from his mouth.

It seemed that the others were in no better state. Lirya was similarly doubled over and Taryn stood still, his eyes shut and his hands clamped over his mouth and a queasy look on his face. Leus looked nauseated, but did not look away and stood tall, although his hands were clenched into fists and he was visibly trembling.

Aidan stood up where he'd been accompanying Lirya and strode over to Altein.

"I was under the assumption that you were all guardians? May I ask why they are reacting like this?" He asked the dwarf, a frown on his face.

Altein sighed and lowered his voice before replying to the archangel.

"Yes, we are guardians. They are just young... and unused to the horrors that war brings on. Even I am hardly much more than half a century old," Altein said.

The archangel nodded, though a frown clouded his face.

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From the scraps of the town they found a few boats relatively unscathed. With a fair bit of assistance from Altein, who seemed to know how to do everything, they were able to make two boats ship-shape and they quickly set off, unwilling to stay among the dead of the town any longer.

Lirya found herself in a boat for the second time in her life. The first had killed her—again, and thrown her into a hazy dreamworld.

She had known it was a dream, because in that bittersweet dream Lirya was a part of a different family—a happy, loving family. Parents with blurry, indistinct faces and a warm, comforting presence and a brother whose face she could not recall.

Lirya peered up at the cloudless sky, wondering if a sudden storm would once again wreck their journey. She gripped the wooden plank that served as her seat a little tighter, her heart racing. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart.

A noblewoman must never panic, She thought, then mentally berated herself as she found herself once again reciting the lessons her father had forced upon her.

They set off, and after the initial shock wore off, Lirya found herself gradually relaxing, and she enjoyed the rough sea breeze and cold and salty spray of seawater. Every startling jolt of cold water on her face and hands was a pleasant reminder that she was outside and far from the stifling confines of Throeyns castle.

Surely Father has stopped looking for me now, Lirya thought, though a small part of her wished that he was still looking for her... that he still cared enough to want her back. Deep inside, she knew the ugly truth, but she so desperately wished she didn't.

Over the sounds of the waves roaring, Lirya heard what sounded like a haunting siren song. She looked around, but the others gave no indication that they had noticed anything.

That's strange, She thought, I feel like I've heard this somewhere before... but I don't know where...

An unsettling feeling of deja vu washed over her as she made out the voice calling her from nowhere.

Erv'um naid renai...

The voice was soft... so very soft, increasing only slightly in volume as she strained to hear. Yet they reverberated within her like never before.

Instinctively, she knew those words had great meaning. She felt an overwhelming sense of longing which scared her, yet put her at ease at the same time.

The rustling sound of whispers startled her and then everything went silent.

Lirya jolted awake, feeling like she'd slept for only a moment and forgotten something important. She frowned, wondering why she was entirely unable to recall what occurred during the dream. The others told her she'd been sleeping for hours. Lirya shook off the uncomfortable feeling and focused on the surroundings. At the horizon, barely visible through the morning fog, was land. There lay Anhua.

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