The Jewels Rise Again: Chapter 8

Here's the in between stuff because we all know that it has to happen, even though it's slightly tedious :)

The Search for the Maker's Water

Their journey to the edge of the Blackwood was surprisingly short, and soon the Wingfeathers, Oskar, and Sara were sliding off the dragons’ backs onto the lush grass below. Artham began unstrapping Janner’s body from the green dragon and gently slid it into his arms. 

Sara felt tears pricking her eyes again, but she blinked them away. Janner would be with them again, soon. Soon, what Artham cradled against his chest would not be a lifeless corpse, but Janner, alive and whole.

Leeli moved her crutch under her arm and limped over to Hulwen’s nose, whispering something to her. Hulwen nodded and turned toward the other two dragons. If dragons talked to each other — and Sara was sure they did — this is what it looked like. Then they spread their wings and flew away, out into the distance.

“I told Hulwen I would play my whistleharp when we needed a ride back,” Leeli explained when Nia asked her why the dragons had left. “I don’t know how long we’re going to be, but Hulwen and the others certainly don’t want to wait that long.”

Artham nodded his agreement, then turned towards Kalmar. “Lead on, Your Majesty.”

Kal took a step forward, then hesitated. “Well, you see, I don’t exactly know where the First Well is. I found it by accident after our mad dash through the Blackwood. We were kind of being chased by a bunch of angry cloven.” Kalmar didn’t add the fact that he had been one of those ‘angry cloven’ and that at multiple times in their journey, he had been ready to pounce on Janner and kill him. He had to fix this. All of this was his fault. If they couldn’t find the Water or if they did find it, but it didn’t bring Janner back, Kal didn’t know what he would do. 

Nia, Leeli, Oskar, and Sara looked at each other with uncertainty. If Kalmar had virtually no idea where the Well was, how would they know they weren’t wandering in circles?

“I have an idea,” Artham spoke up. “Kalmar, what if I fly you above the Blackwood. Perhaps we’ll be able to see something from up there.”

Kalmar practically jumped at the news. “Uncle Artham, that’s brilliant!”

“First, though, you two trouble-makers need to help us set up camp somewhere,” Nia interrupted them. “I would rather not be attacked by a toothy cow in the middle of the night when we’re defenseless.”

“Nia, I am no trouble-maker,” Artham began. “However, we will find somewhere safe for the lot of you.” He glanced around and saw the Blackwood in front and the open field behind. “Any ideas, Kalmar? You’ve been here more recently than I have.”

A grin spread across Kalmar’s face. “I know just the place. Everyone, follow me!”

*****

After about an hour of walking, Sara’s confusion had grown to the point where she simply could not resist speaking. “Kalmar, where are you taking us?” She felt odd saying it and almost wished she hadn’t spoken — after all, she didn’t know Kalmar well —  but he turned back and said in a friendly tone:

“Don’t worry, Sara. We’re almost there. In fact,” he added. “If you look reeeeeeally closely, you can actually see it.”

Sara squinted and peered through the trees ahead, but she saw nothing. Then she gasped at the sight before her. 

“My, my,” Oskar said, adjusting his spectacles as he pressed his quill to the paper to write down what they saw. “In the words of Whittlebee Castlehunter: ‘What a place among the brambles! It’s almost as though it’s not even a ruin!’”

And the truth was, Sara reflected as they walked in through the wide-open gates and stepped into the vast, cobbled courtyard, it was not a ruin at all. 

It was a magnificent place that had once been a castle for some sort of royalty. The main portion stood a distance in front of them, light purple and pink flowers that bloomed from climbing vines dancing across the stone walls. Surrounding it were many more stone structures, and Sara could see they had once been well-built houses. 

Nia walked over and peered in through the empty door frame. “Why, it looks like someone’s lived here recently,” she said in amazement.

“They have,” Kal told her. Then he looked at everyone. “This,” he said, awe in his voice. “Is Clovenfast.”

***** 

When the group was comfortably settled inside the ruined castle, Artham and Kal walked out and into the courtyard. Kalmar looked behind him one last time, wanting another glimpse of Janner before he left. 

“Kal. Come on.” Artham said, beckoning his nephew forward. “The sooner we find the Well —”

“The sooner we can clean up my mess,” Kalmar finished, a hint of bitterness in his voice. He jammed his hands into his pockets. “I know. Let’s just go.”

Artham shook his head. “No.”

“No?” Kal looked at him. “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“Kalmar, you have to stop. Stop blaming yourself. You did not kill Janner. It was his choice. The sooner we find the Well, the sooner we can bring him back. Now, I want you to say this to yourself, out loud: ‘I did not kill my brother. Janner sacrificed himself because he loves me. Everything that happened was the Maker’s will.”

“The Maker’s will,” Kal murmured. It was the only thing he could cling to. Only the Maker could bring Janner back. He prayed it was the Maker’s will to do so.

“Can we get going?” Kalmar asked, eyeing his Uncle. 

“Once you say it.”

Kal sighed. “I did…not kill my brother. Janner—Janner sacrificed himself because…he loves me. Everything that happened was — no, is — the Maker’s will.” He glanced at Artham. He wondered if his uncle could see what was hidden in his mind, the fact that he really didn’t believe the words he spoke.

Apparently he could not, because Artham nodded approvingly. “Now, High King, let’s find this Water.”

***** 

Artham flew over the forest for hours with Kal in his arms, looking for any patch of trees that seemed green or brighter or bigger than all the others. The leaves all settled into a monotony. Several times, Kal or Artham thought they saw something, and they would dive into the trees and look around frantically. 

The result was the same every time: nothing. No wells, no rivers, no streams — no nothing.

As they failed again and again, Kal began to doubt. He began to doubt that he had ever really even found it and that it was even a good idea to come. His spirits sank and his worry rose as night came on.

The second day of their searching it was the same. Nothing. They saw absolutely nothing that even hinted at the First Well. 

“There are just too many trees!” Kal cried, frustrated beyond belief. 

“Patience,” Artham whispered as he scanned the forest below. “We’ll find it.”

As Kalmar looked and looked and looked and saw nothing and nothing and a whole lot more nothing , he felt the guilt and grief and fury creeping on him again. He felt like something was eating him from the inside out — like it had been he had been a cloven, except this time, it wasn’t evil. This time, it had a right to be there. It had a right to judge him. 

“Maker,” Kalmar whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Please, help us find Your Well.”

And then in a gentle, quiet instant, like a breath of fresh air from the Maker Himself, a ray of sunlight came down from the sky and rested on a stand of trees. 

A stand of bright green trees that were huge and towered over the rest of the forest.

“Artham, look!” Kalmar shouted, pointing towards the spot. “There, fly down there!”

Artham glided down, angling his wings and lighting down among the trees. There were so many beautiful, flourishing trees clustered together, joining their branches in joy.

And resting among them was a Well. The Well. The Well with Water that was so perfectly crystal clear with the Maker's goodness and purity. The Water shone and sparkled in the light of beauty that envoloped it. It sang with life. 

“We’ve found it,” Artham breathed.

Kalmar looked up through the canopy of trees. “No,” he said, a smile on his face. He spread his hands out and basked in the golden shaft of light. “The Maker found it.”

Notes: Hopefully tomorrow's chapter will be very much enjoyed :D