The Lost Voice

Chapter One-1-3

“The more who follow, the more I have to split my attention,” Archai snapped. “I will not waste my energy on a mere boy.”

Solin dropped his gaze to Caia, then to the floor with a furrowed brow. Caia could tell he had a million things he could say, but like her, he abhorred confrontation. Even more than that, what could possibly be said to sway a Sapient?

Caia took Solin’s hand and gave it a squeeze. After so many years together, Solin knew how much she respected and loved him. No Sapient would change that.

Archai let out a snort of dismissive laughter at her motion just as screams rang from the distance. Caia ran to the window to find her father, Atar, and Naoni coming from the path leading to the home. On the other side of the village, a gray throng of sinstarians came upon them like a storm.

“Dy’Mün!” Naoni called. Her sword was in her hand, but she was not foolish enough to think she could take on a horde by herself. She leapt off her horse and burst through the door with Caia’s father.

Atar slid the wooden crossbar across the door and turned to the professor. “Do you have weapons here?”

Dy’Mün moved to a door Caia hadn’t noticed; it was the same color as the walls of the hut. Behind the door was a shallow closet hiding a slew of weapons, ranging from swords to spears and arrows. “They are sinstarians?” he asked Atar while handing him a sword.

“Yes. There may be goblins, but we did not stop to look. They crested the hill just as we entered Nov’Eit.” Concern was clear in his expression, and fear shone bright in his eyes. “There are many of them, Dy’Mün.”

Screams rang from the village amid the snarls and shrieks of the sinstarians. Caia stepped back and clutched her chest, terror stabbing at her core like a cold dagger. All those people...

Dy’Mün looked to Archai and replied to Atar. “The young Voices will make it.” He handed a short sword to Solin. “We have a Sapient with us.”

“By the Highest,” Atar said softly, his eyes locked on Archai. His eyebrows raised as he lifted a hand to his mouth in shock just before a thud sounded against the door and everyone turned to face it. The air in the home grew heavy and Caia wondered for a second if she was dreaming. She squeezed her eyes tight, hoping she would wake from the moment and realize it was all a nightmare.

Instead, the windows behind them crashed in, and the group formed a circle, facing every side of the hut. Caia looked to Solin, who returned a despairing gaze.

“We’ll be all right, Caia,” he said with an attempted half-smile. “I love you.”

A huff of frustration left Archai as he wielded his sword and made for the doorway. The blade spun in his hand, cutting the air with a whistle. The young elves exchanged glances.

As the goblins tore through the door, Archai swung his sword, spilling the bellies of three creatures at once, then he kicked down what was left of the splintered wood. “Come,” he called.

Naoni sent an ear-to-ear grin to Caia, who was fixated on the gore in front of them with wide eyes. Solin grabbed their hands and they all hurried after Archai. When they exited the home, they were met with something none of them could have fully anticipated: dead bodies mottled the village ground in every direction, as far as eyes could see. Caia’s gaze followed the running rivers of red, and she stepped back with a hand to her mouth as the muddied blood of an innocent squelched beneath her boots. They were all slaughtered like sheep, simply to get to her.

Her lungs heaved for breath as she recognized the faces of those she’d known all her life. Bowi, the blacksmith; Gëniv, the herbalist; beneath a toppled feed wagon were the bodies of the Nornin twins—not yet six years old—face down in the mud.

A battalion of sinstarians intertwined with goblins came at them from all directions but the east, weapons and bindings at the ready. They must have planned on taking the girls alive—Caia would not allow that. With tears in her eyes and her heart all but torn, Caia strung an arrow and took aim.

Archai turned at her side and looked down at her with curious eyes.

War cries echoed through the village as the enemy made for the small group. Caia took one long breath to regain control of her anger before releasing an arrow. She would hit her target, no doubt. The feathers of the arrow brushed past her cheek as it sliced the air and plunged into a sinstarian’s heart. After that, the faces were all a blur as she impaled goblin after sinstarian, sinstarian after goblin.

Behind her, Solin joined Naoni, who spun and sliced at will. His movements were short and fast in comparison to the folcavian's fluid, dance-like motions and together, they staved off a wall of goblins.

Archai leapt into the air as massive white wings erupted and spread from his back. He was quickly made a fresh target for archers, but with every swing of his sword or gesture of his hand, a blue and white light discharged from him and annihilated arrows and attackers alike.

The elves gaped in wonder at the Sapient but didn’t slow their attack.

Dy’Mün and Atar were side by side, armed with staff and sword, slaughtering any creatures close enough for a face-to-face kill.

Death was everywhere and still coming. The battalion drew so near that every arrow Caia launched, she retrieved from the bodies and used again. Suddenly her weapon was wrenched from her hand and a sinstarian grabbed her from behind, dragging her away into the multitudes. She screamed against the gray bloodstained hand of the monster that took her, knowing that none would hear her cries within the howls of war. Dozens of pairs of snake-like eyes looked down at her from long, gray faces.

“Do not kill her! We need her alive!” a mingling of voices cried out amid cackling.

One creature threw her to the ground and bound her hands at the wrists with metal bindings and chains. She fought against them until her arms and legs burned from the effort when a blinding white light shone through the wall of her attackers. The laughter turned to high-pitched shrieks and bellows through the momentary blindness. Caia felt the earth leave from beneath her, but she saw nothing beyond a wall of white.

The smell of rain filled her nostrils and made her skin tingle, but she didn’t know what was happening or who lifted her. She twisted and squirmed fearfully against the hold.

“Stay still,” Archai demanded. “Your sight will return in a few moments. I am sorry, but I had no choice.”

A breath of relief escaped Caia’s lips as wind beat against her face and she asked, “Are we flying?”

“Yes, we are.”

Caia greatly wished she could see and hoped her sight would come back before they landed. She knew of no one who wouldn’t relish the opportunity to fly, and there she was, face against the wind. It was not long, though, before the wind stopped, and her feet were dropped to unmoving ground. Archai took her elbow and led her on.

“You wait here,” he said, lowering her down to sit against a tree. “No one will see you if you stay put. I will find the Voice of Folc and bring her as well.”

Caia nodded in agreement, though she felt it strange that she and Naoni had already taken on the titles of the Voices. She tried to blink away the seemingly perpetual light. A slight sense of fear twinged in her chest at the thought that whatever happened to her sight would not be fixable. But Archai said it would fade.

Archai. She thought about him for a moment while she yanked at the chains around her wrists. She would have never thought opportunity would arise to meet a Sapient, even with her knowledge of her bloodline. But there she was, her life in the hands of an immortal being. Part of her was utterly thrilled with every interaction with him. How could she not be? He was a Sapient.

A cold wind stirred through the trees, and Caia perked her ears attentively, the chains clinking with her every move. There were no clashing blades or cries, but silence in its stead. Was it the silence of victory or defeat? Sadness consumed her once again as the faces of those lost flashed before her mind's eye.

Finally, and to Caia's relief, she heard horses in the distance. From the sound of it, there were four, which gave her the hope that all survived—unless they were riders of the enemy. Thinking twice on rising from behind the tree, Caia remained low and listened closely, attempting to pick up on any voices.

The horses stopped nearby.

“Where is she?” Solin's voice rang out. He'd never sounded so surly, but hearing him was a relief, regardless.

“Here,” she replied, using the tree beside her as support to stand. Without her sight and with her wrists still chained together, her balance was off.

Solin hurried to his fiancée and embraced her. “Are you all right? They got you? Did they hurt you?” he asked, shaking the chains in a panic. Her eyes looked toward him, but she couldn’t tell if she was looking at him. It was as if she couldn’t focus. “How do we get these off? What's happened to your eyes?”

“It'll fade,” the voice of Archai suddenly spoke from the left.

Solin turned to face the Sapient. “What is it?” The stress in his voice was clear.

“It is a light spell. I had little choice,” Archai went on. Rock crunched beneath footsteps as he neared. “Move,” he ordered Solin. Caia blushed at the sensation of Archai’s hands as he held her firmly by the sides of her face. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he assured, obviously noticing her discomfort.

Caia tried offering a smile. “Elves are not accustomed to such closeness. We believe it improper unless coming from a loved one—especially a touch of the face.”

“Right,” Archai replied shortly. Caia could sense the judgment in his tone. “Do not blink,” he directed.

Entirely uncertain of what was supposed to happen, she gasped at the sudden air that crossed her left eye. Archai's breath came stronger and she couldn't help but do what he bid her not to. Her eyes fluttered wildly at the sensation. With her face still in one of his hands, his other one held the eye open.

The sensation was uncomfortable, and Caia grasped and pulled at Archai's hands, trying to free herself.

“What is he doing?” Solin asked from the side.

To Caia's surprise, sight in that one eye cleared as if a fog were lifted from it. She blinked in wonder when she was able to see Archai's teal gaze. Without another word, he held her other eye open and did the same until both eyes were clear of the blinding light.

“That was amazing. Thank you,” Caia said as Archai slid his sword from its scabbard and cut through the metal bindings, showing just how unnatural even the power inside his blade was. He pulled down his hood, revealing hair as silver as the sword in his hand. With an arrogant grin, he bowed slightly.

“You’re welcome.”

“Now, we are all here,” Professor Dy’Mün said, looking around. “No one is injured beyond a night’s healing? Good. Archai, you’ve arrived just in time. Our initial plan to meet you in Sanctuary would not have panned out.”

Archai nodded, closely examining the new Voices once again. “I sensed trouble, so I came out to find Caia.”

“Yes, though we still need to get the girls to Sanctuary,” Dy’Mün confirmed.

Archai’s eyes lighted upon Caia’s wrist, and he lifted her hand in his to look closer.

“What is it?” Naoni asked, breaking a heavy silence that came with Archai’s focus. Caia had nearly forgotten she was there.

“Right,” Archai replied absent-mindedly, ignoring Naoni’s question. He faced Dy’Mün. “Elder, I give you leave of the Voices. I can handle them from here. We’ll be off to Sanctuary.”

Atar exchanged glances with Dy’Mün. “Are we leaving the girls?” he asked in something of a panic.

Dy’Mün knocked his staff on the ground, sending up a puff of dirt. “Archai, your reputation with women precedes you. Focus on the problem at hand and not the view! These are not like your pathetic maidens coming to you for companionship. Have I made myself clear?”

Atar swallowed hard and took in a deep breath. “What are you saying, Dy’Mün?”

Archai looked sidelong at the old man, seemingly more humored than annoyed at the response. “Dy’Mün, I know exactly what is at risk here. I am simply thinking of their safety,” he offered, though Caia saw no truth in his eyes.

“I know what you are thinking,” Dy’Mün said, then spit at Archai’s feet. “’Leave of the girls,’” he muttered. “How daft do you think I am?”

Atar rubbed a hand down the side of his smooth face. His concerns likely matched Caia’s own—what kind of man were she and Naoni being entrusted to?

Professor Dy’Mün looked to the east. “We will take them to my cottage near the foot of the mountain for the night. It is hidden well enough from sight, and there are soldiers nearby, which will be advantageous.”

“Why are there soldiers?” Naoni asked.

“And how many cottages do you have?” Caia added.

“I have many places I call home. As an Elder, I must have a place to rest no matter where I am in Jaydür,” he explained. “As for why there are soldiers, well, a fortress belonging to Prince Leithen is near there,” he replied.

Naoni turned to Caia with c****d brows and a mischievous smile cracking her plump lips. “The Prince? Oh my.”

Dy’Mün puffed, clearly agitated by Naoni’s response. “I do not know whether or not the prince is there himself, but it does not matter. His soldiers are present year-round. Come, we must hurry before it is too dark to make camp,” he said. “It would be wiser if we not stay the night so close to the battleground.”

“I agree,” Archai added, gesturing toward the elf prince’s lands. “Let us go, then.”

The group followed after him and Caia looked up at her father, who gave her shoulder a squeeze. “You gave us quite a scare when we lost sight of you,” Atar whispered.

“I’m sorry,” she replied with a soft smile as she shifted her quiver around her waist. She wondered, briefly, what happened to her bow. Last she saw it, the horde dragged her away just after snatching the weapon. The memory of the gray hands and faces of sinstarians nauseated her.

“Don’t blame yourself. I’m just glad you’re safe.” He paused and watched the Sapient walk alongside Dy’Mün. “And Caia? Please be careful. And wise.”

Caia smiled as he stepped forward to join the men in the front, then turned to Naoni, who nudged her.

“Quite the revelation with the Sapient, hm?” Naoni whispered. “With a sullied reputation for women, I’ve not yet decided whether to be offended by his brash attentions or to be charmed.”

Atar looked over his shoulder with a glower. “Your mind should be on more important things,” he snapped. “And more honest men.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” she whispered, then giggled the troublesome giggle she was known for.

Caia laughed as she followed the group. One by one, they each found a horse and Caia quickly realized she was the only one lacking. Solin came up on, Sam, his own horse, and offered Caia his hand to ride with him. She smiled and squeezed onto the saddle behind him, tossing a glance back to Nov’Eit. The life she’d led was gone, along with the people who’d filled it. Whatever smile touched her face fled quickly, replaced by a controlled grimace—nothing more than a mask that covered the twisting agony that writhed within her and darkened her spirits.

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