CHAPTER 3
THE DESERT
They had never seen a desert before; their home had been quite different from such a barren land. Green forests and pristine rivers overran Eidelvar, but it had all faded under Bragolthar’s foul magic. The heat was almost unbearable on their scalps, but the wagons they assembled would help with that. The desert looked endless with dunes and mountains decorating the sand. They would have to choose a path soon for they could not stay with the little provisions they had. While some finished eating, others finished up preparing the wagons for the road. Animals walked around, while a group waited and stood together by the ship. Among them stood a majestic white she-wolf who was great in size—enough for a grown person to ride—white as snow and elegant with each step she took. Her name was Faana and she was the spirit animal of the youngest of the King’s sons, Prince Valruin.
Valruin stood apart from the group, leaning against the ship, his silver eyes watching Faana inspect the sand. He had helped assemble many wagons and was now enjoying what bit of shade he could get. A solitary breeze passed through his dark hair as he played with a dagger in his hand, he did not like to wait. His brother, Camlhach, was next to him grooming his mare, Tinwe, patiently. Tinwe was a silver-coated beauty unlike any of the other horses they had brought. She was the last of her line, as many of their animals were.
“Faana,” sighed Valruin, approaching his white she-wolf to stroke her fur. “I am so sorry, girl. There is no grass to rest beneath you or tree to give you shade.” Faana looked around and then at Valruin, who was now searching his pack for the special food they made for the animals.
“Who would have thought that one day we would be eating dwarf food?” said Camlhach as he fed Tinwe. Elven cooking was very efficient and little bites could give a great amount of nutrients, but the dwarves taught them of their hearty meals and they had created a new and better food.
As Faana ate, Valruin pulled out some of the hybrid food and took a tentative bite, too. “This may all be new to us, but for the younglings and their children, sharing with dwarves will probably be one of the most natural things in the world. It was about time.”
“I could not agree more. I’m glad we are allies,” admitted Camlhach, his golden eyes meeting his brother’s. “Our differences were never something so marked, I find. I just cannot believe that Bazur and Nurunn are the only ones left.”
Valruin walked over to his brother as he replied, his voice a little lower than before, “At least they have each other.” They both knew they could not allow themselves to become too involved with their emotions.
Many had found their people cold and heartless in their old home, but it was not that they took pride in having to suppress feelings and memories. The elves were always misunderstood among other races, but during the last years, they had been able to show their allies who they truly were. Luckily, the only dwarves and human left on the face of the world knew them and accepted them as they were, and they did them.
Suddenly, Camlhach turned around and spread his arms gesturing to the landscape, his face now bearing a smile. “Well, if this is to be our home, Brother, I shall require lighter attire. Think there are enough leaves to cover all this?”
Valruin uttered the first laugh since their arrival. “Leaves, Your Highness? As you can see, there is not a single leaf to cover your pale skin.”
“There’s bound to be a leaf somewhere out there and you’d better search for it; otherwise, you’ll have to see far too much pale skin for your own sake!” said Camlhach mischievously.
More than one elf laughed. Valruin made a feigned, disapproving glare. “Mind your words, Camlhach. We do not wish to stir a fair maiden’s heart, now, do we?” Yet, he paused for a second as he suddenly looked back to the sea in thought. Valruin saw the look in his eyes and turned away.
Bazur and Nurunn had volunteered to help scout the land nearby. Even though elves possessed a keener sense of sight, hearing and speed, dwarves were known for enduring heat far beyond any race. This quest was as much theirs as it was for the elves.
“Bazur!” called Nurunn. “Do you see the mountains ahead?”
“Just a moment!” said Bazur who stood only a few steps behind her, kneeling and examining the desert sand. He got up quickly and walked to her side. He was tall for a dwarf and had a friendly disposition. Being young, his beard had yet many years to grow big and strong, but he walked with a confidence and assurance that would make anyone think his years were not too young.
“I see them now,” he said with a smile as he parted a strand of dark hair that covered his eyes. “They do not look at all like the mountains from home. Look at how dry and red they are.”
“And tall,” added Nurunn, extending her arm to point, her golden braids following her. “They seem to continue along the seashore for quite a distance. Do you think we should follow them?”
Bazur stroked the bit of beard he had as he replied thoughtfully. “I believe so. It can provide us with shelter and also guide us throughout the journey. Can you imagine the minerals inside, Nurunn? The weapons we could make? The jewels?” he said eagerly.
“I can,” she replied with a smile, turning to look at him. It had been a while since she had felt a spark of enthusiasm. “Perhaps there are minerals that have not been discovered yet, stones waiting to be polished by our hands. We could—” Nurunn stopped as she looked at her hands.
Bazur saw her face change, her smile fade. “Nurunn?” he asked with concern, searching for her eyes and taking her hands.
“They are gone, Bazur,” she said with sad eyes. “All of them: gone.”
“They are not gone, my love,” said Bazur with hope in his eyes. “They are with us every step of the way.”
She bit her lower lip and closed her eyes for a few seconds. “I know. It’s just—” said Nurunn with misty eyes. “I just miss them.”
“As do I,” he said. “We will not let our people’s legacy fade. We have been chosen to carry out this important task—just you and I—and I am not saying that our people were meant to die. I miss them just as much as you do.” He paused before continuing. “We can save what is left of our people, my love, because we are our people.”
“You are right,” replied Nurunn, wiping her tears and straightening up. “We can do this. I just hope that with time we can make our people proud.”
“We will, my love. We will make them proud,” said Bazur embracing his wife and smelling the ocean in her hair. She smiled as his arms wrapped themselves around her and his warmth comforted her whole.
The sun’s rays came down harsh on the Erathiel as they made their way across the land. Whether they walked, rode on horseback, or wagon, the sun’s heat gave them no peace. Valruin was among the first of the company. He walked steadily with Faana at his side, playing with a dagger or two on occasion, never letting the blade pierce the pale skin on his hands. There was barely anything interesting to look at, except the yellow, bushy plants that grew erratically over the sand and little rocks here and there. Even the tall mountain chain that seemed to run on forever along the coast had not changed in shape or size. Everything seemed stifled. He wondered how long it would take to reach the desert’s end, it seemed infinite. The Enchanted Sea had finally led them to land and it had not been what they had expected, but to venture into the sea once again would have cost the lives of their mortal friends and probably their own, that much he knew.
His silver eyes wandered from the sharp mountain peaks to his brother, who walked next to him, just behind their father. Camlhach was not riding Tinwe, instead he would pat his mare every now and then while quietly humming a song from their old home, a song that Valruin hadn’t heard since the day he was born, The Lay of the Dragon.
“Come now, Faana,” said Valruin as the white she-wolf let out a whimper of complaint. “It won’t be long till sundown and then the night will be yours.”
Faana’s thick coat did not sit well with the sun and her tongue hung dry out of her mouth. Valruin kneeled to share what water he could spare with her and she licked the last tongueful from his hands before continuing the journey. When he got up, Camlhach was no longer by his side; he had reached their father up in the front. He saw them exchange words, Camlhach agree, and then advance beyond the company. He disappeared as he went down a slope, Silme and Tinwe following close behind him.
Valruin quickened his pace. Camlhach had always been the one to lead; it was his birthright, but Valruin knew he was never proud of it. While some would expect a prince to be pompous, he did not harbor the trait. He had always admired this about his older brother, but envied his position. Just as he had reached the slope, he found Camlhach smiling up at him from below. He had waited for him.
“Well, come on, Brother! I would not want to discover the world’s greatest mystery without you,” said Camlhach playfully.
“Nor could you,” replied Valruin, smiling back as he slid down to reach his brother’s side. “Sadly, your sense of direction is ghastly.”
Lothar walked behind the king with another group of elves. He was as hard and tall as a mountain, being half dwarf and half elven, his auburn hair had practically been shaved off, save for a few warrior braids that hung over his broad shoulders. He took mighty strides, leaving large footprints behind him, unlike the elves whose feet walked lightly over the sand.
“Curse this desert sun!” he complained under his breath, not particularly to anybody. “It is melting the very life out of me!” Lothar had never been of many words, yet these had always been significant among the Erathiel, for he—as King Thinidiel—was among the eldest and one of their finest warriors. His small comment caused more than one elf to agree with his discomfort, all except for Turion.
“Oh, you mean the gentle sun? I feel the brisk wind on my back,” said Turion with a grin. He turned to another elf and shared a cheeky smile. “This heat is absolutely unbearable,” his voice was hushed, but loud enough for Lothar to hear the contradictory statement.
“However,” continued Turion, his tone changing, “I do not see why your complaint has to be heard above everyone else’s. Truly, we are all melting under this wretched sun. Even the dwarves look like they are having a little trouble coping with it.”
Bazur and Nurunn nodded in agreement, sweat marking their brow.
“I am not saying that it is hotter for me than for others, nor that my troubles are above everyone else’s,” spoke out Lothar agitated. “I am merely expressing how uncomfortable the heat is.”
“No, no, no,” said Turion simulating concern, “you are right to feel more heat, dear fellow. For I believe we all know that a blossom’s petals are easily marred by the hot sun.” More than one gasped at Turion’s words for Lothar’s name meant none other than ‘flower’ in their tongue, which was a name commonly given to elf maidens, but his mother had loved that name.
“Lothar, you fool! Lothar is my name and it would do you well to remember that there is nothing about me that is as delicate as a flower,” scolded the ruddy giant, slightly annoyed and embarrassed by Turion’s words.
“Nay, I would have a flower’s name if I were delicate and, well, you are delicate, aren’t you, blossom?” Turion laughed once more as his deep blue eyes sparkled with mischief, infuriating Lothar further, but he only shook his head and cursed under his breath as he walked on with the rest of the company. Turion’s brow turned serious as he turned away from the others and stopped to look at the sea.
Queen Nimtar’s eyes looked far away from the others. Her gaze lost in an invisible world only she could see. Thinidiel approached her wagon, sat beside her, and waited until she spoke. She always had moments when her mind traveled to unknown places. Sometimes she would return with a smile, other times she would carry tears. Thinidiel preferred to be at her side whether she filled his heart with the light in her smile or the sadness in her eyes.
“This land is new,” spoke Nimtar softly, coming out of her dreamlike state. “Full of magic and power. I can feel it grow as we move into it.” The tip of her staff shone as the last of her words left her lips.
“Nothing to be concerned about, my love?” asked Thinidiel as he reached for her hand and held it tight, but tenderly.
She did not look at him for a few seconds as if she were listening to a distant voice. Suddenly, as if she returned to earth, she met his silver eyes. “We have yet to see. It would be best to be on guard. I do not know where this power comes from, but if this is the land fate has brought us to, there must be light in it.”
Thinidiel smiled. “Of course, there must be. Perhaps this light can lead us to our daughter or bring her back to us.”
Nimtar’s eyes shone and she smiled with hope, “Yes, I am sure of it, my love. We will find her.”
He kissed his wife and abandoned the wagon, and made his way to his sons, who were bravely leading the expedition. Nimtar smiled as she looked towards the sea, singing a sweet melody, her staff shining bright.
Nightfall was nigh and so far nothing had stopped their pilgrimage. Although they were not tired, for elves rarely became so, they had in their company mortals and animals that would surely need to rest their weary legs.
“A cave!” cried Camlhach back to the company. “Look! There is a cave not far from here. We could set up camp there.”
“It is far enough from the sea to not be bothered by the tide and not too far inland to be at the desert’s mercy, Father,” spoke Valruin as he used his keen elven eyes to assess the landscape.
“We could rest there, but first we must inspect it,” said Thinidiel with precaution. He looked up at Silme, who was circling above him, and once their eyes met the bird made his way towards the cave. “Let us walk on,” he said turning to his sons, “but proceed with caution. We do not know what lies ahead.”
Whether it was an act of defiance or simply that they had not heard their father, the princes did not obey the king’s command. Valruin smiled with a spark in his eyes as he jumped on Faana’s back and raced his way over to the cave, like a ghostly white specter moving over the sand.
“Cheat!” cried Camlhach as he mounted Tinwe to catch up with him; his mare was the fastest from their land. “You only do this because you know I will reach it first!”
“Nonsense!” yelled Valruin as Faana galloped her way towards the cave. “I only cease opportunity when presented before me!”
King Thinidiel, seeing their disobedience, quickly mounted his horse and went after his sons. The rest followed with a quickened pace. He did not believe that there was necessarily a nearby danger that could befall them, but he could not let them venture on his own. They could take care of themselves, he thought, but suddenly he realized that Silme had not returned. Something was not right.
“Valruin! Camlhach! Halt!” cried out Queen Nimtar sitting up in her wagon, her bright eyes troubled and alert.
Silme’s cry rang across the desert though no one could see him. If he had found danger, he would not lead it to his people. A strong wind began to blow and it was almost as if the sun’s light had dimmed, but not the strength of its heat. The sand began to move under their feet, making it difficult for them to stand. Wagons almost tipped over, but the tremor only lasted a few seconds, but then creatures, wild and vicious, with scaled skin and lizard-like bodies, came from beneath the ground.
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