Links to previous chapters:
Notes: please tell me anything that breaks canon, and I am happy to discuss what I’m doing with Artham.
Chapter 4 Across the Sea-Almost
The bird man and the boy king quietly made their way through groups of Annierans, many still asleep, but some stretching and yawning, eager to live another day on the Shining Isle. While the people slept in a haphazard manner, scattered all over the island, most kept a respectful distance from the ruins of Rysen and the grieving family inside, so when Artham and Kalmar approached the stone cellar, they could talk quietly without being overheard.
“Uncle Artham, I’m going to go inside and wake the others up. Our packs haven’t really been unpacked yet, except for the bedrolls and some food, so I’ll bring those out first and put them on the dock to wait for Hulwen. Can you get Janner’s- Janner’s- can you get Janner and bring him to the dock?”
“Alright, Kalmar.”
“Thanks.” As Kalmar somehow managed to scramble recklessly and yet quietly down the stone stairs to retrieve the packs, Artham walked slowly over the stone courtyard to Janner’s bier. The remaining cobble stones and high stone pillars were all deeply scratched and dented, burnt as well, but retained enough of the structure to flood Artham with memories, such as the coronation ball,when Esben was only sixteen and Artham two years older.
“Hurry up Arth, we’re gonna be late! They’re all waiting for us! Ugh, why do I hafta wear this itchy outfit?”
“Okay, Okay, Es, just wait one more minute! I want to make sure-”
“That you look good for Arundel?”
“What? No, of course not! Well, I mean, I do want to look good, not necessarily for Arundel, but I mean, I don’t want her to think I don’t look good but-”
“Just hurry up! We hafta go!”
Esben and Nia’s wedding celebration, three years later.
“Congratulations Es! I think Nia will make a lovely queen. It sure took you long enough to ask her!”
“Hah! Speak for yourself, Arth. How long have you not been courting Arundel?”
“Oh, be quiet! Hold on, here comes another guest! Stand straight, Es.”
A few months over a year later, right before Janner’s naming celebration.
“Haha! Oh Artham, you don’t have to wait until I invite you, just ask if you can hold him! You already have several times. You need to hold him more often, not just stand looking at him. Go on, ask!”
“Uh, Nia, may I please hold Janner?”
“Now that’s better. Of course you can hold him.”
“Thank you!” Artham remembered Janner’s warm weight in his arms. He had looked down in wonder at the little newborn who had already stolen his heart. The next Throne Warden.
“You will do so well. I see great things in you, little Janner.” Just speaking those words had filled his heart to bursting with love for his brother’s little son. Artham remembered that love as he walked toward Janner’s body. Now, it was accompanied with great pride. Artham realized that Janner had fulfilled the purpose of a Throne Warden to the utmost. He had died for his brother. But you didn’t! You ran away! You left him and now he’s gone! Artham squeezed his eyes shut as he fought to push away the voices. He was surprised he had gone this long remembering and hadn’t heard the voices yet. Then he thought about it. It was because he had remembered what he had not dared to remember for a long time, what he had felt he didn’t deserve to remember. Instead of a burning Rysen, every time his sword had faltered in the slightest bit to preserve Esben and keep the Jewels safe on the way to the tiny boat, his and Esben’s years of imprisonment, his own desperate escape after starting into the song that left him half eagle, Esben looking at him with a face patched with fur and wearing an expression of deep sadness and disappointment, and his desperate search to find Esben again, he had remembered the love that had knit them together. He had remembered the joy of days only years and yet hundreds of lifetimes away. Now, he focused on his love for Janner and Kalmar, Nia, Leeli and Sara as he gently lifted Janner’s body from the bier. He folded Janner’s soft black Durgan cloak around him, then lifted the large blanket from the bier and wrapped him in it. He took Janner’s body into his arms and carried him toward the dock. Artham looked into his nephew’s still face. Janner wore a look of utter peace. His lips were curved up in a gentle smile. Protect. Protect. Protect. Artham could see these words etched into his nephew’s set face. His eyes were closed and if not for his unusually thin, light body and his cold hands, Artham could almost believe that he had fallen asleep before a peaceful fire, reading an adventure story, and might wake up at any moment. When Artham reached the dock, he stood and gazed out at the peaceful sea. The sunrise had turned the lapping tide into a field of light. As the water started to churn again and three huge dragons began to rise out of the sea, Kalmar emerged from the dark cellar. He carried the family’s packs, including Oskar’s.
“Oskar coming?” Artham asked, eyebrow raised.
“Hah, yeah, how I woke him up, I’m not sure…I mean, once, when we were in Glipwood forest, we took down the tent while he was still under it, and Nia and Leeli were rocking him back and forth, but he still didn’t wake up! He should be coming out of the cellar in a few minutes. In fact, here he comes now.”
“Aha! Good Morning, Artham. Yes, the High King here told me of your quest, and in the words of Natterlie the Cartographer, ‘I wouldn’t miss this for all Aerwiar!’ Oh, and in response to your statement, young Kalmar, you didn’t wake me, in fact, I haven’t slept very well at all tonight. I was, well, still am, quite disturbed by dear Janner’s death.” After these words, Oskar drew his spectacles out of his waistcoat pocket, and after cleaning them and putting them on, squinted past Kal and Artham to the dragons waiting by the dock.
“Bomnubbles! Are we truly going on dragons!? In the words of Shank Po,‘I’d rather not. What else have you got?’ I mean, I’m not quite sure how comfortable I’d be on a dragon.”
“Ah, don’t worry, Mr. Reteep, the dragons won’t let you fall off, at least I don’t think they will, and Uncle Artham will help you up. Right?”
“Of course, Oskar.” As Artham looked rather uncomfortable, not wanting to put Janner’s body down, Kalmar said,
“Uncle Artham, these leather straps were in a corner of the cellar. We can tie Janner and the packs on with these. I guess we don’t have to tie him on, I’d actually rather not, but if someone tried to hold him, he might drop-”
“I’ll tie him on. Pass me the straps, Kal. I can help Oskar on afterwards.”
“Thanks. Here you go, Uncle Artham.” Artham looked at the green dragon next to Hulwen.
“Would you carry Janner?”
Of course, Throne Warden.
Kalmar watched as Hulwen waded out of the water onto the land, along with the other dragons. The green one bent his shining head to Artham so he could strap Janner to his back. As Artham continued to tie the straps, Kalmar walked to his side and looked at his brother. He reached out a stiff hand and brushed some hair off Janner’s forehead. Kalmar’s expression hid the turmoil in his heart but eyes showed a confusing mix of grief and hope, love and concern. More than anything, he wanted to be with his brother again. To play zibzy with him, have a pillow fight, or argue about who would get the last blueberry gooey ball. “Come back, Janner. Please come back. I need you. And I miss you so much,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, so quietly that not even Artham could hear him. He gently lifted the corner of the soft blanket wrapping Janner and tucked it around his head, covering his face. He sighed.
“Uncle Artham, can you help Oskar up now? I’m going to wake the others and bring them up here.”
“Alright,” responded Artham. “By the way Kalmar, I noticed you’re wearing Janner’s sword.” Artham’s statement was as good as a question.
“Uh, yeah. I want to be able to give it back to him in person if, you know, if this works. And…it-it makes me feel close to him.”
“I understand. Go on, Kalmar. Get our family.”
“Alright.” Kalmar walked slowly back to the cellar. He changed his expression to a mask of certainty and hope as he walked down the stone steps. Artham watched him admiringly. He was learning to control his feelings, and when Artham remembered Tink Igiby from Glipwood, and all his crazy antics, he felt pride in his heart for his nephew’s growth. When he reflected on it, Kalmar’s fanging was part of the Maker’s hand in his life. Kalmar becoming a fang was a consequence of his own foolish decisions, but the Maker had worked through his pain. Kalmar was at first the only person who wanted to help and heal the Fangs and Cloven because he could empathize with them. The Maker had changed his heart from that of a young boy afraid of heights, to that of a young man, prepared to follow the Maker wherever he was leading.
Kalmar crept quietly down the cold steps and into the darkness of the cellar. The hope planted in his heart had continued to grow, and he now felt a shiver of excitement run down his spine. Even if this wasn’t going to work, it would be an adventure. He thought of all the things they could do with the Well Water. But he had no time to think of that now. He had to wake up three people who had cried themselves to sleep a few hours ago. He sighed and rubbed his forehead, once again thrilling at the feel of his skin, no longer furry. Well, he thought, if I have to wake them up, I might as well just do it. He drew an unlit torch from its niche on the wall, and the flint and steel next to it. He soaked the torch’s cloth top in oil and struck the flint. The torch flared to life. Kalmar stood up and held the torch over his head and cleared his throat uncomfortably. Nia awoke first. She sat up and rubbed her red eyes, squinting at the torchlight.
“What are you doing?” She asked, her tone sad and slightly annoyed. Leeli and Sara began to stir and sat up, brushing hair out of their eyes. Leeli had been overjoyed to hear that Nia would take Sara in like a daughter and had laid her bedroll next to Sara’s. They looked at each other in confusion when Kalmar said,
“It’s time to go, everybody up.” Kal grinned. Artham had walked to the cellar and poked his head into the stairwell.
“The sooner they get up, the better. Are they coming?”
Kal responded,
“Yeah, they’re awake and grumpy.”
“What’s going on?” Leeli yawned out as Kal handed her her crutch and grabbed her hand, urging her up the stone steps.
“We,” Kal said, with eyes dancing with mischief and his mouth set in a grin at the confused looks on his family’s faces,“are going on an adventure.” Nia and the girls all blinked and squinted as the morning light washed over them, and Kal snorted with laughter at the sight of Oskar, wiggling and squirming on the back of the third dragon, who was hunched under his weight. Leeli laughed too and stepped forward, resting a slender hand on the poor blue dragon’s nose.
“Oskar?” She asked, looking up at him. He looked rather uncomfortable, but his face was filled with excitement.
“In the words of Skeglin the Questionable, ‘I’ll organize the Great Library when I return.’ I’m exceedingly happy to be in your company again, Wingfeathers.” At this point, Oskar nearly slid off the dragon, but seized its shiny horns and wiggled his haunches to regain balance. Nia glanced around the dock and when she saw Janner strapped to the green dragon’s back, covered in blankets, her expression softened. For the second time in the past few moments she asked,
“Kalmar, what are you doing?”
“Uncle Artham and I were talking,” Kalmar said as he pulled himself up onto the green dragon behind Janner. “and we realized that there’s this well, deep in the Blackwood-a well that’s been lost for years and years.” Kal’s eyes burned with hope and he saw a spark in his mother’s eyes too as she looked longingly at Janner, then up at Kalmar. She looked back at Janner and her lips curved upward in a gentle smile.
“And I,” Kal paused dramatically, “know where it is.”
Leeli gasped and squealed with delight as she scrambled onto Hulwen and hugged her tight.
“We can use it to heal Janner!”
“That’s what we hope, Leeli dear.” Artham smiled at Leeli lovingly.
“Sara, sit with me!” Leeli giggled at Sara’s shocked face.
“Wait-what? On a dragon?” Sara’s blue eyes were wide in astonishment. Kal smiled as Artham gently lifted Sara onto Hulwen. So this was the girl Janner sleep talked about. Kal remembered her from the Dragon Day before all their wild adventures had begun, but she had grown a lot. Kal smiled at her. He couldn’t wait to tease Janner about her again. At least, he hoped he would be able to. His face grew downcast for a moment, but brightened again as he heard Artham explaining to Sara.
“They say the water does amazing things. They say it heals, and maybe even more. I’ve wanted to taste it for a long time.” When he talked about the water, the voices stormed against Artham in his mind again, but he pushed them away. Why did you even say that? He thought to himself. You know you won’t be drinking any of that Water. You don’t deserve it.
“It’s worth a try.” Kalmar announced, interrupting Artham’s thoughts and looking at Janner, putting a hand on his blanket wrapped legs.
“Either way, it’s going to make a great story, the kind of story Janner would love.” He reached out a hand to a smiling Nia and asked,
“Are you coming?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” Nia lifted her dress, climbed onto the dragon,and shared a glad, hopeful smile with her son. All at once, the family noticed a crowd behind them. Annierans had gathered and were staring at their king.
“Where in Aerwiar are ye goin’?” Asked an unidentified voice from the crowd. The faces of all asked the same question. Kal moaned inwardly. He was the king, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it. “Of course this would happen, why didn’t I think of it before?” Kal mumbled.
Next chapter is here