The Vitalis Chronicles: White Shores (40 page)

Alisia hung it gently around her neck, pulling her hair out from under the chain and hiding the gem under her blouse. She turned and opened the door, walking out into what acted as their galley and mess. Ardin was already sitting at the table, a simple breakfast prepared and waiting for her. He hadn't struggled with sea sickness too much on this trip, though he still seemed to lack proper sea legs. At least he could eat. The sight made her smile; he smiled back as she sat down.

They ate in silence for a while, the rain humming softly above as they enjoyed their small meal.

“I haven't exactly been the most kind to you,” Alisia finally said.

“What do you mean?”

“It's just... well I never knew what happened to your parents. What happened to your family. I don't remember having seen you in Levanton.”

“I don't think you did,” he said. “Except my brother. He saw you, he said you were the most beautiful girl in the world and that someday he would marry you.”

The thought brought a smile to Ardin's face as he pushed fruit around on his plate. He didn't look up to see that it made Alisia blush. He laughed to himself.

“In fact, you were our last mission.”

“Mission?”

“He and I used to go play soldiers.” Ardin caught himself; it was his turn to blush. “I mean... well you know. We went out into the mountains and trained ourselves. Our dad was a soldier, once thought to be among the greatest tacticians of his generation until he lost his legs. He taught us a lot. John even got to train some in the Academy. But we would have all sorts of adventures on our own, John and I, and the last one was saving you from the Ogres that lived in a ravine near our house.”

“I see,” she said, unable to keep a wry smile from slipping. “Was it a successful mission?”

“Well it was for you,” he said with a devilish grin. “Not so much for him. I told him you weren't interested.”

Ardin paused as he thought back to that day, the smile fading from his face. There was a heaviness, a pain that came with the memory; reliving happiness he would never have again.

“Well I'm glad that you found me twice then,” she said, reaching for his hand.

She could feel the weight of his memories. He tried to shake them off, forcing a brief smile. It made his heart jump a bit to have her hand on his, and when she removed it again he wished she hadn't.

“How did you sleep?” he asked, turning again to his nearly empty plate.

“Fine,” she said, studying his face as he stared at his fork. “I miss Caspian.”

“Did you know him well?” he asked, squinting slightly as he looked at her.

“Yes,” she said. “Through stories more than anything. My mother thought of him as a brother; in a way he was like a father to me. I never knew my father.”

“So you'd been to White Shores before?”

“Yes, a long time ago. I mostly remember Caspian, how warm he had been. By then he had decided he wanted to stay in Grandia, to help to the people there. My mother visited him a few times, I even went once, but then the Purge began and we never returned. This was all before my mother placed me with my guardians.”

“I wanted to ask you about that, how is it that I never saw you? You couldn't have lived in Levanton long. I mean, we were on the outskirts but a girl like you wouldn't go unnoticed for long.”

She smiled at the thinly veiled compliment.

“We had only been in Levanton a year. My adoptive father was a member of the Old Guard, a group that swore to protect the Magi when mankind turned against us at large. When the Guard were dispersed and I left the desert stronghold, he and his wife took me in.”

It was her turn to stare at her fork as she pushed food around her plate.

“It was hard, living with a family like that. They were kind, but I drew back more as their children grew older. They all passed me in appearance of age, Ardin, and moved out before I looked like a young woman... I resented them their growth.”

“But you'll live for a long time, won't you? They would envy you that.”

“I suppose they might. Anyways, Elandir's borders grew exponentially and my family began feeling the pressures of having a daughter who didn't age. Once all of my siblings grew up and moved out, we relocated to Levanton. He had hoped that it would be a better suited place to hide, but I suppose my mother ruined that for all of us.”

She smiled again apologetically. Ardin wondered how much of her mother's legacy she carried on her shoulders. His lips flattened out in acceptance of the unspoken apology. She seemed to be wanting some sort of reassurance.

“Thanks for everything, Ardin.”

“Don't mention it.”

“No really,” she said. “Thank you.”

The rain died down to a few sporadic drops as sunshine broke through the small portholes that lined the room. They sat there reading each other’s eyes for a moment longer, sadness mingled with a new-found peace as their hearts slowly released their hurts.

Alisia got up suddenly.

“I should go stretch my legs,” she said. “It looks like the sun is coming out.”

“Alright,” Ardin said, but she was already making her way up the short flight of stairs to the deck above.

He sat there a moment longer, uncertain if he should follow or not. He wondered if he had been the only one feeling the way he had in that moment. It left his confidence tarnished.

Reluctantly he followed her above, figuring there wasn't really much space to move about on the vessel anyways. Why things had to turn awkward like this was beyond him.

She was sitting off on the starboard side of the boat, staring out at the water as it passed by. He decided to let her be and walked to the bow by the other route. The clouds were dissipating quickly in every direction, their gray shadows rolling in on themselves to reveal bright blue skies above. The sun hung in the sky like a glowing white orb that whimsically willed the clouds away.

He stood there a while, breathing in the sea air and trying not to look and see if Alisia was watching him. He wished she would join him, assure him that he wasn't the big idiot he was certain he was. The introspection made him smile self consciously. If he wasn't an idiot in how he had acted he must certainly be one for over-thinking everything.

Then he realized she was standing to his right, looking at him. He returned her gaze, caught by the way the half-light softened her appearance. The delicate lines of her nose and cheekbones almost made her look fragile in spite of the strength they conveyed. It hurt his heart in a strange way to look at her, a good hurt he thought. One he was most certainly willing to endure.

She didn't smile, her face didn't betray anything, she just studied his own as intently as he did hers. There was a new depth to her eyes, a resolve that hadn't been there before. He reached out his hands to take hers.

He didn't know where she would lead him, to what dangers, monsters, or terrors, but he knew something now he hadn't only hours before. He would follow her anywhere. He would throw his life away on a whim if it would so much as please her.

Ardin hoped she felt the same way. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her hard on the mouth. She hadn't taken her hands away. She just kept studying his eyes, searching for something. He leaned in slowly, closing his eyes, taking the risk.

She turned her head away at the last moment, dropping his hands and gripping the railing on the bow. He stared at her for a moment confused, but the moment had passed. His heart sank a little before he sighed and turned to face forward as well.

“Look!” she said suddenly, throwing her arm up to point in the distance. “The cliffs!”

At first he couldn't see anything, let alone believe that they had made the journey in as little as a week. But there they were, rising steadily over the horizon. In the fading light of the evening they found themselves closing in on the coast, the lights of Brenton flickering on in response to the coming of night. The wall of rock seemed more imposing from this perspective, looming over the ocean, dark and brooding. He tried to imagine what it would be like to be a soldier in an assaulting army. The thought ran a chill down his spine.

They had passed by a number of vessels anchored at sea, waiting their turn to enter the harbor, but none seemed to take interest in them. The coast guard had yet to make any appearance, and it seemed to Ardin like they might make it to shore without incident. The fear of jinxing them with his thoughts caused him to hold his breath, but he relaxed as the North Shore came into view.

It was dark by the time they got to the docks, making their way past them and farther into the delta. The boat seemed to know the way, passing upstream and navigating through the different docks and moorings that lined the large outlet. Ardin and Alisia sat, not wanting to draw any attention to themselves, yet feeling secure on the dimly lit river.

“I hope she knows where she's going,” Ardin said as he patted their bench gently.

“Me too.”

Soon they were entering the Rent itself, steep ravines and cliffs appearing on their flanks in the moonlight as they left Brenton. It became difficult to see, but Ardin swore he could make out the path they had taken just weeks before, high above in the cliffs along the river. He cringed at the thought of their flight, wishing suddenly to be anywhere else. He had almost died here... they both had.

They felt the boat scrape the bottom of the river once. Alisia's ford, Ardin thought. Shortly after that, the landscape became totally foreign to him.

The Northern Range rose dark on the horizon. The dramatic peaks punctured the heavens to leave stars in their wake as if the night sky were simply a canvas cast over the world to keep out the sun. They came to a fork in the river, the boat choosing the easternmost tributary. Tall dark ruins stretched out from either side of the river. They seemed to launch themselves from the cliffs, never to meet as they attempted to bridge the gap. Ardin wondered what they were.

But it was dark, and the boat moved swiftly up the river. They were leaving the Rent behind. Soon they were wandering back into the highlands that lay between the Peninsula to the west and the mountains and white forests to the east.

“How much farther can it take us?” Ardin asked, his tone hushed as if afraid to wake something on the shore.

“I don't know,” she said. “I can't imagine much farther.”

But it did go a good ways, reaching the high foothills of the mountains before turning into the eastern bank and running aground.

“I guess we're getting off here,” Ardin said after regaining his composure.

As gentle as the stop had been, he hadn't expected it. And he was exhausted. The stress and wonder of the past few hours wearing off to reveal just how tired he really was.

“Let's get our stuff,” Alisia said as she turned to go below.

Ardin followed dutifully, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as best he could. All he could think about was a nice warm bed.

“Maybe we should sleep here tonight? At least it's shelter. Besides, it's dark out there.”

“Nightfall will do that,” she said dismissively.

“I just want to sleep,” he said. “We can give it a couple of hours.”

“No!” She turned on him. “We need to find Tertian.”

“In the dark?”

“Better than risking discovery here on the river.”

“No one's anywhere near here!”

“Get your gear, we're leaving.”

And with that she picked up her own pack and started for the upper deck. He mumbled something to himself about girls and being pushed around but grabbed his own pack and followed her anyways.

They lowered themselves over the bow of the boat and found the footing to be quite sure. Ardin looked around, completely unimpressed with their surroundings and frustrated by their predicament.

“Could've picked a pub to drop us off at least,” he said over his shoulder to the boat.

“C'mon,” she said, ignoring him and walking towards the dense forest ahead.

The hill got steep quickly, and Ardin began wishing with every step that a bed would magically present itself from the undergrowth. All he wanted was to shut his eyes, and before he knew it he was practically dozing on his feet as he stumbled along after Alisia.

“Ardin!” she snapped.

He came to, finding himself a good twenty or thirty feet off to her left and well behind. They had crested the first small ridge and were walking along fairly flat ground.

“What are you doing?”

“I dunno,” he said.

“Would you just follow me?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

But he stopped again after taking a few steps, there was something hard and smooth under his feet.

“Ardin!”

“Hold on,” he waved her off dismissively

He kicked at a fern and found smooth rock under its broad leaves. He started tapping the ground with his foot, kicking away foliage with each discovery of more smooth rock. There was a path! A stone path, out here in the middle of nowhere.

He turned around a couple of times to figure out which way it was going. It worked its way back towards the river, where he swore he could see the moonlight glinting off of even more flat stone.

He wandered back towards it, ignoring Alisia's hissed commands to return. Kicking at more foliage revealed a platform at the edge of the hill, a sort of balcony overlooking the river. And below it the path continued in the form of overgrown stairs that ended only feet away from their little boat. He cocked his head to the side, intrigued.

“What on earth is this?” Alisia came up behind him.

“I have no idea.”

“Should we follow the path?”

“It did lead us to it,” he said. “Maybe we should.”

They were slow to turn from the river. There was something safe about it that called to Ardin. Something reassuring that the forests didn't provide. He felt as though only horrible things happened in forests any more. With a vague sense of dread, they made their way up the path, losing it for moments only to stumble upon it again in the canopy-diffused moonlight.

Ardin didn't know what lay ahead. He had enjoyed White Shores so much that it hurt to leave it behind. However short their stay had been, he wished there had been more time to spend with Caspian. And now they were looking for another Mage, one who may not even be alive. Not to mention the possibility that they didn't know where his allegiances and temper lay.