"Chosen 6

"Chosen 6''
by;fernand jiro

“Some say tragedy often begets triumph.  This is true.  This is the balance in life.  Never forget that!”
Opening words of the famous sermon by Archpriest Alero at the funeral of King Perim
Year 562 AW

                “There is no need to fear.”  The words echoed in Raleigh’s mind over and over again in the soft, innocent voice of a child.  The battlefield was gruesome and eerily calm.  All was silent except for the voice echoing in his mind.  Slowly the dim light of early morning crept across the land, exposing the atrocities that had been committed.  The smell of death loomed in the air, thick and nauseating.

            In the distance the sound of waves washing up against shore floated on the breeze, drawing Raleigh’s attention.  His gaze wandered to the sound of the sea but saw only the silhouette of a broken and battered ship.  Deep inside of him a feeling urged him to approach the wreckage.  With careful steps, Raleigh slowly made his way through the battlefield, leaving behind him the image of his worst nightmare and the accusations in the wind.

                “You save her but not us?” it whispered in his ear.  Raleigh paused and looked back; back to where his nightmare lay.  He took a deep breath and turned to continue to the wreckage of the ship, struggling to hold his tears in.

                As he drew close Raleigh saw the bow was missing, as well as several holes throughout the ship that burrowed completely through.  There seemed to be something familiar about the ship, something that did not seem right.  Suddenly the gentle rhythm of the phantom waves broke and a shriek pierced through the air, causing Raleigh to drop to his knees.  It grew louder with each passing moment, meaning that the source was drawing near.

                “Esen?” murmured Raleigh.

                With a hard thud, the former sailor landed a short distance away from the kneeling Raleigh.  Esen slowly stood from a crouching position and began to approach Raleigh.  His movements still seemed unnatural and his eyes glowed a dull blood red.  “You cannot escape us!” he shrieked again.

                Raleigh stood slowly, blood racing through his veins, and stared into the deep pools of red.  “You are dead,” he replied to Esen, trying to sound confident.

                “Death is but a transition,” hissed Esen, beginning to circle Raleigh.

                “There is no need to fear,” whispered the voice again.  Raleigh looked around to see where it was coming from, puzzled by everything he was seeing.

                Esen shrieked again.  “What are you looking for?” he asked.  “I am here!”

                Raleigh felt a tug on his robe.  He looked down to see the small ball of light again.  “What are you?” he asked it.

                The light pulsed softly.  Raleigh could feel its warmth flow through him, calming his anxiety.  He looked to Esen again who seemed agitated.  “Who are you talking too?” he asked in a bitter, grinding voice.  “Don’t you know we will kill you?”

                Raleigh gazed deep into Esen’s eyes for a moment.  They pulsed gently as the sailor stared back.  The light at Raleigh’s side tugged at his robe again to gain his attention.  “There is no need to fear,” it whispered again.  Raleigh looked back to Esen who began to disappear, morphing into something inhuman.  It had neither form nor substance but Raleigh felt something present, something foreign.

                “ We will kill you!” the creature shrieked.

                “No,” said the light, moving in front of Raleigh.  “You will not.”  It began to glow brightly, expanding outward until it covered everything in view.  There was a final shriek then silence, followed by the soothing sound of the waves.

                Raleigh slowly opened his eyes, squinting hard at the bright sun overhead.  Slowly, he lifted himself to sit up even though his body fought to lay still.  Warm sand pushed between his fingers, a sensation he had never felt before.  He took a handful of the white grains and let it sift through his fingers slowly, watching as a gentle breeze blew the grains away before they landed.  Again he took a handful of sand to repeat his experiment, the glitter of each grain sparkling in his eye.  And again.  A small smile slid across his face.

                The sound of seagulls cried from overhead, drawing his attention away from the sand.  In large flocks they swooped down to rest and feed on the tiny creatures that lived among the sand and sea.  Serene and soothing, the scene around him eased Raleigh’s mind, allowing him to forget about the dream he had just awoken from.

                “Raleigh?” murmured a soft voice from behind him.

                Raleigh spun around quickly, frightened by the sudden appearance of someone else.  Pallan lay a short distance away on the sand, barely moving yet definitely alive.  “M’Lady D’Lude?”

                She nodded and fought to sit up, only barely achieving her goal.  “Where are we?” she asked.

                “I…I do not know,” Raleigh replied.  Slowly the images from came back; images of the ship and crew, the explosion and the battle in the air, and Esen being possessed along with much of the crew.  Then the image of the pinpoint of light became clear in his mind.  “We…were saved I think.”

                Pallan arched her brow.  “What do you mean?” she asked.

                “The light,” replied Raleigh.  “The light from the sky saved us.”

                “The light,” Pallan murmured.  “The crew was attacking us then that bright light….”  She was silent in thought for a moment then shouted, “Mayla!”  A painful jolt coursed through her body as she attempted to jump to her feet.

                Raleigh’s eyes grew wide with realization as he looked around.  There was no one else, just himself and Pallan.  “Where…could they be?” he asked.

                Pallan forced herself to her feet with a groan.  She scanned the beach for a moment then tried to walk with great effort.  “How could I let them down?” she murmured to herself.

                “Who?” asked Raleigh, coming to her side to offer his aid.

                “Mayla and Laye.”

                Raleigh paused for a moment, making sure he heard what he heard.  “You mean…Princess Mayla and Queen Laye?”

                Pallan chuckled.  “Yes, Princess Mayla and Queen Laye.”  After a couple more steps Pallan fumbled, nearly collapsing to her knees.

                “Are you injured?” asked Raleigh.

                “I’m sore all over,” muttered Pallan through a painful wince.

                Raleigh looked around for a moment then smiled and ran off when something in the sand caught his attention.  After a moment he was back, holding his staff out to Pallan.  “Here, use this to help you.”

                “Where did you get this?” she asked.

                “It was near where I woke up,” Raleigh replied as he pointed to the imprint of his body in the sand.  “I guess I was holding onto it when we came here.”

                Pallan thought for a moment, trying to piece together what had happened.  “We were attacked by the sailors and then…”

                “The light from the sky,” Raleigh interjected.

                “Yes, the light.  Then, here.”

                Raleigh again looked around.  “But where…is here?”

                “I do not know,” replied Pallan.  Both were silent for a time, the sounds of the waves washing up against the shore and the calls of the seagulls filling their ears.  Slowly Pallan pulled herself up again with Raleigh’s staff and murmured, “We had better start looking for someone, anyone.”

                “Maybe they are nearby,” Raleigh suggested.  “I’ll go look while you wait here.”

                Pallan attempted to protest but could not speak her mind before Raleigh had taken off up one side of the beach to look for survivors.  She held onto a small glimmer of hope but deep in the recesses of her mind she thought that it was all but hopeless.  Then she noticed her surroundings and began to wonder, contemplating as many scenarios as she could.  Few of them ended happily.

                The waves came crashing against the sand, far enough from Pallan to cause her concern.  Her clothes did not seem wet nor the sand she was laying in.  Raleigh’s clothes were dry as well.  His staff had been lying near where he was which caused her to look back to her resting place.  Next to her imprint in the sand was her sword; dried blood stained the blade with no indication of being wet.  Slowly her eyes rose to the sky.  Aside from a few clouds that floated lazily in the air the sky was a clear, beautiful blue.

                “Why?” she asked under her breath.  “High Father, why?  Are we the only ones?  Mayla?  Citro?  Even Mornic?  They could not be saved?”  She lowered her eyes again and stood in silence among the waves.  Something inside of her churned, a feeling of purpose.

                Raleigh returned shortly after, panting from the run.  “I could not find anyone.  Let me check the other side.”

                Pallan stopped him before he could run off again.  “There is no point.”

                “What?” asked Raleigh with a confused look blanketing his face.

                “I do not believe we washed ashore,” Pallan replied in a grim tone of voice.  “If we had then the others would have been nearby as well.”

                “But…”

                Pallan motioned to Raleigh’s staff.  “Your staff and my sword,” she stated flatly, “were with us but no one else?  No wreckage from the ship?  Something is not right.”  There was a moment of silence between the two before Pallan spoke again.  “We will find them.  I know we will.  Come, let’s see what we can find inland.”

                Raleigh nodded and walked close to Pallan, keeping a watchful eye.  He knelt down to pick up her sword before continuing on.  They turned inland and walked up the shore to where the grass met the sand.  A soft breeze blew against them as they topped the dune that separated vast prairie grasslands from the sandy shore of the beach.  The tall grass ebbed and flowed like the waves of the sea, bowing to the will of the wind above them.  The occasional tree stood out, towering over everything as far as the eye could see.

                Pallan took her first step with Raleigh at her side, leaning heavily on his staff.  Eventually the sounds of the waves were soon replaced by the rippling flows of the sea of grass before them as they continued.  After some time of walking the sun hung high in the sky, dominating over everything it surveyed.  Raleigh had long since donned Pallan’s belt and sheathed her sword in order to carry a small branch of leaves over her head.

                “Raleigh, I am fine.  Please put the branch down,” she asked.

                “It is getting hot and there is little cover,” Raleigh replied.  “And you are not as strong as you used to be.”

                Pallan stopped and glared at Raleigh.  “I will show you how strong I am if you do not drop the branch.”

                “No,” he said flatly.  “I am only trying to help.”

                With a sigh, Pallan conceded the fight.  “Ok,” she grumbled.

                Raleigh smiled.  “Thank you, M’Lady D’Lude.”

                They continued to walk as the bright day slowly turned to dusk and then to night.  The air slowly cooled as the sun eased its way through the sky down to the horizon and the nightlife awoke to greet the visitors to their domain.  Under the shelter of one of the few tall trees Pallan sat, resting her back against the tree’s trunk.  Raleigh sat cross-legged looking up to the sky.

                “Tell me, Raleigh.”

                “What is it, M’Lady D’Lude?”

                “You grew up at the Academy, right?  How was that?”

                Raleigh looked puzzled.  “I…I do not think I understand.”

                Pallan chuckled.  “I am curious to know what life was like at the Academy.”

                “I learned much there,” he replied.

                “Did you have many friends?”

                Raleigh hesitated to answer.  “No, I did not.”

                Pallan arched her eyebrows.  “Why not?” she asked.

                “Many of the students at the Academy were from noble families.  They…rarely wanted to spend time with an orphan of ‘low birth’.”  Pallan nodded slowly as she listened.  “I mostly studied and performed my chores for the priests at the Academy.”

                “What do you mean by low birth?” Pallan asked.

                “That is what a few of the other students called me, low birth or a commoner.  My parents were farmers.”

                Pallan nodded, thinking carefully of how to approach the next question.  “If I may ask, what happened to your parents?”

                Raleigh sat quietly for a moment.  His mind drifted to his dreams and the images he saw, his nightmare; his guilt.  “They…were killed.”

                “I…am sorry, Raleigh,” Pallan replied softly.  “Truly.”

                “I was young at the time, only seven years old.”  Raleigh closed his eyes, trying to hold back the tears.  “We had just gotten home from a trip to Hyllro to sell goods.  A nobleman stopped with a small group of his men and demanded a night’s stay.  My father told him that they were welcome but food would be very scarce because we had just sold what we did not need.  The noble did not like that answer and demanded him and his men be fed immediately.  When my father refused…he was cut down.”

                Pallan sat against the tree, struggling to keep a calm face while inside her rage continued to build.  “What of you and your mother?”

                “I…grabbed something.  I do not remember what it was but I attacked with it.  One of the noble’s men pushed me down and held me there at sword point while the rest went in to find food.  I heard my mother trying to fight back and she too was killed.”

                “They spared you though?”

                Raleigh nodded slowly.  “The noble said it was not right to kill a low born child, that it would be like killing a puppy.  They tied me up while they ate and slept.  The next day they set fire to my farm…and knocked me out.  I was told that they told the priests they found me among the remains of my farm after fighting a band of bandits off.”

                “Have you ever told anyone of this?” Pallan asked.

                “Mornic knows but…there was nothing to be done.”  Raleigh stood up and turned to look up at the sky.  “I do not know who the noble was, and even if I did it would be my word against his.”

                “Raleigh…”

                The images in his mind grew stronger, the flash of lightning on the battlefield caused night to turn into day for a brief moment, letting Raleigh look down upon his nightmare again.  His parents lay at his feet, looking up through lifeless eyes.  The wind whispered again, “You could save her but not us?”

                “I’m sorry,” Raleigh whispered.

                “Why?” Pallan asked.

                Raleigh took a hold of himself and wiped his eyes.  “Nothing, M’Lady.”

                Pallan narrowed her eyes and then nodded.  “As you wish.”

                “May I ask you something now, M’Lady?”

                “Of course,” Pallan answered with a smile.

                “Where did you learn to sing like that?” he asked.

                Pallan laughed softly.  “I used to be a performer of sorts.”

                Raleigh turned to sit down again.  “What kind?”

                “I performed at an inn near Hyllro during my younger days.”

                “How did you become the captain of the guards then?  I…would not think that just anyone could become so.”

                Pallan smiled gently.  “One day the king…well he was prince at the time, visited the inn in disguise.  He enjoyed my show and requested that I come to the palace for a…personal show.”

                Raleigh widened his eyes.  “Very impressive, M’Lady.”

                “Yes, well…while I was performing for him someone attempted to kill us.  Without thinking I defended the prince and stopped the would-be assassin.  I was then chosen to be his bodyguard.”

                “You must be very talented,” Raleigh commented.  “To sing and fight like you do…”

                “I strive to learn.  About my art as a performer, my duty as a guard, my calling as a tutor…”

                “Tutor?” Raleigh asked.

                Pallan nodded with a hint of pride in her smile.  “I am Mayla’s personal tutor as well.”

                Raleigh smiled.  “She is very lucky to have you as her tutor and protector.”  They both sat in a shared moment of quiet contentment then Raleigh spoke again.  “Are you feeling better?”

                “I don’t really feel bad but my body feels worn out, like I have been pushing it as hard as I can.  I’m not sure what is wrong.”

                Raleigh suddenly noticed a mark on her neck.  “You are injured,” he said as he pointed it out.

                Pallan rub it lightly and chuckled.  “One of the sailors managed to scratch me.  I should be fine.”

                With a slow nod Raleigh said, “Then lets get some rest.  Maybe in the morning you will feel different.”

                Pallan smiled.  “Yes sir,” she said teasingly before settling and drifting off to sleep.  Raleigh watched her for a little while longer before letting himself fall asleep too.”

                The next morning Pallan still was not feeling her best.  She had to use Raleigh’s staff again in order to walk and keep her balance.  Raleigh again held Pallan’s sword sheathed at his waist and walked with her, carefully watching after her and looking around for any indication of where to go.  He began to think that the vast stretch of grasslands would never end.

                Eventually they came to a dirt path in the grass worn out by constant use.  They looked both ways, trying to decide which direction to go.  Neither looked more promising than the other.  Clear horizons and a complete absence of any landmark or feature to distinguish one direction to another made choosing one nearly impossible.

                “Which way, M’Lady D’Lude?” Raleigh asked.

                Pallan sighed, still leaning heavily on Raleigh’s staff.  “I have no idea.  Both are the same.”

                “Except for that,” Raleigh stated, pointing to their right.  Pallan turned to see a small figure running down the path toward them followed by larger figures bursting forth from the grass.  A shrill scream of terror filled the air followed by shouts of anger.

                “Draw my sword,” Pallan commanded Raleigh.  “Place the tip down onto the ground while firmly holding the handle.”

                He looked to her with wide eyes.  “But…I do not know how to use it.”

                “You will not have too if I handle this correctly.”

                A small girl came into view as she neared the two travelers.  Raleigh slowly unsheathed Pallan’s sword and placed the tip down into the ground as she instructed.  The girl saw them and paused, then looked back to the men chasing her and began to run again.  She passed Pallan who made no move to stop her and slowed, stopping a short distance away.

                Pallan whispered, “Move out to the middle of the path.  Do not say a word, merely stand there and act as if you cannot speak.”

                Raleigh nodded and slowly moved to the middle of the road, resuming the stance Pallan told him to stand in.  The men stopped in front of the young apprentice.  There were three of them, dressed in loose, heavy work clothes that had seen many hard days.  They were squalid and unkempt.  Working men who, like their clothes, had seen many hard days.  The leading man held firmly to a whip as he stared Raleigh down.

                “Move aside, vermin!” the leader shouted in a harsh voice.

                Raleigh stood there, fear paralyzing him.  The words were familiar but not commonly spoken near the capital city of Hyrllo.  The accent and pronunciations were different.  Raleigh began to think of how to reply when Pallan shouted out from behind him.

                “Do you threaten us?” she asked in a similar accent and pronunciation.

                “That child is property of the Vagaren Family.  Move aside and let us have her!”

                “Property?” Pallan asked with a hint of disdain.  “Not any longer.  She is now free.”

                “Oh?  And who are you to state such a claim?  The Administrator’s emissary?”  The three men laughed at the last question for a moment.  “Bah, even if you were you have no claim over Vagaren’s property.  Now move aside!”  The leader unfurled his whip and lashed out once to back up his demand.  Raleigh winced slightly at the crack of the whip.

                Pallan grinned.  “The three of you against my guard?  Highly unfair, I think.  Maybe ten of you, heavily armed, would be a better fight.”

                Raleigh continued to stand there, trying his best not to show fear.  The leader laughed and raised his hand up to test Pallan’s claim.  “Lets see if your guard is as strong as you say he is.”

                “Look at him!” shouted one the tallest one.  “I think he’s too scare to breathe!”

                “Mock him, test him, and jibe him.  It only fuels his rage,” retorted Pallan calmly.

                The third man looked between Raleigh and Pallan.  “Curo, maybe we shouldn’t…”

                “Shut up, Jermae!” commanded the leader.

                “Curo, is it?” asked Pallan.  “Listen to me, this young man you see before you is a killer at the pinnacle of the art.  Look into his eyes.  Do you see the look of death?”

                Curo laughed.  “He looks scared to me!”

                “Of course he looks scared; the best fighters are not the strongest, they are the smartest.  Why attack all three at once and tire himself out when he could fight one at a time.  Go ahead, I dare one of you to attack.”

                Curo looked back to Jermae.  “Go on, attack him!”

                Jermae shook his head.  “N…no sir!  I seen them other two fellas yesterday do the same thing she says he can do.  I don’t wanna die!”

                “Two fellas, hmm?” Pallan thought to herself.

                “Idiot!” Curo shouted.  “She is lying.  We have the advantage.  Now get that boy!”

                Raleigh tensed a moment, fearing that Jermae might actually listen to Curo and try to attack.  Pallan eased herself forward.  “Two fellas, one with a large sword and black hair, the other brown hair with a shield and sword?”

                The tallest blinked and replied, “Yah, that’s the two.”

                Pallan laughed.  “You were beaten by those two inept, incompetent bunglers?”

                The three went pale for a moment.  Curo faltered a step back and almost dropped his whip.  “Bunglers?”

                “Well,” continued Pallan, “when compared to my guard they are.  They owe us money so if you know where they are and you tell us it I might be able to persuade my guard to spare you.”

                “I…I seen them going to the old mill on the hill,” blurted Jermae after a moment of hesitation.

                Raleigh stood still as the three men began to back up.  “Keep the girl!” Curo shouted.  “She was a waste of good food anyway!”

                Pallan smiled as the three men ran away.  She eased herself over to Raleigh and patted his back gently.  “You did very well.”

                He relaxed visibly and looked back to her.  “Thank you,” he replied shakily.  “How did you know they would fall for that?”

                “I didn’t,” Pallan replied with a wicked grin.  “But it was our best chance.”

                Raleigh dropped her sword and stared at her then smiled and laughed.  “Very clever.”

                “Thank you, Raleigh the Killer,” she answered with another grin.

                Raleigh blushed then looked to the direction the men came from.  “You spoke just like them.”

                “It is a dialect from the northwestern corner of Jalstiria along the shoreline called Polic.”

                “Oh,” replied Raleigh.  “Is that where you are from?”