A Nightingale's Tale

Chapter Thirteen

Killian led her through the dark forest. Lighting bugs flickered all over the trees. Lydia tripped over a root as she watched the fireflies instead of her feet, and bumped into Killian’s arm.

“They look like fairies,” she said.

“They’re tiny bugs,” he said.

She had seen lighting bugs before, but she didn’t feel like explaining that to him. “Yes, I see that.

“I’m sure there are a lot of things that you haven’t seen before.”

“I’m sure you’re right.”

They walked for longer than she had expected to. The sounds of the waves crashing onto shore grew softer with every step away. Lydia realized there had never been a time that she hadn’t been able to hear the ocean in the background somewhere. The stillness was eerie like the beat of her own heart had just faded away. For the first time in a long time, fear climbed up her legs. It felt like she was moving too slow and too fast at the same time. She wanted to run back to the rhythm of the sea, but her body was compelled to walk away from it.

“Careful stepping down here,” Killian said, distracting her from her own fears for a moment. She found foot-holes in the soft dirt and held onto his hand as she walked down them. She slid slightly into him and he caught her by her waist. He steadied her on her feet by holding his hands on her hips like he was placing a doll on a stand. Lydia stepped away from his touch. She looked around the open area they had walked down into. They were in a small field that was a few feet lower than the rest of the forest floor that had pooled water puddles toward the center of the field.

“Sorry, we’re so far back. This is the only place no one will bother us. I really don’t want them to know about this.”

“Why don’t you want them to know you’re learning to fight?”

“They don’t know I can’t use magic.”

“How do they not know that yet?”

“Mainly, we’ve been lucky.”

“Lucky? You have a lot of ill people here.”

“That’s why I want to learn to fight with magic. I can fight hand to hand but I’m no good with magic. Lyon’s always been there but he may not always be. Thanks again for helping me with this.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

She pressed against her stone and her praecant flew out. It was beautiful at night. It had a glow to it that couldn’t be seen in the sunlight. She heard him take a quick breath in.

“This is how I know how to fight. I can teach you the little bit about spell-casting I know but it’s not much. This is the best thing I can teach you with.”

He turned away from her and toward a large blue, metallic pile at the end of the field.

“It’s a truck,” he said to her, “Humans use them to get around, it’s a lot more convenient than a door.”

Lydia had seen Onyx’s car. It was black and small, she assumed they all looked like that. The blue heap of metal Killian called a truck did not look safe to be around. Killian pulled out a long, copper pipe from the back.

“This should work.” He held it like a sword. Lydia looked at it skeptically but instead of protesting, she took a few steps back and nodded her head towards him. He nodded in agreement and he ran at her.

He wasn’t quick on his feet and she took him down quickly. She pulled her praecant back before she could really burn his leg or melt the copper pipe. She could tell he was much better at hand to hand, he was using all force and no pattern. He wiped the dirt off his knees and picked the pipe back up. He threw his shoulders into his thrust and Lydia burned him in the chest. She mostly stayed in the middle, taking small jabs at him, while he danced around her. He hurled himself forward again, this time he was a little faster, not fast enough. She held out her praecant at his neck. She squeezed her crystal slightly and it grew it further, burning his neck slightly before retracting in. He exhaled loudly and dropped the pipe in frustration and walked over to the truck and sat on the back. She sat next to him while he rested. He handed her a sack of water.

“No wonder they were all so terrified of you,” he said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Covens, like yours, whole villages of people like you. I always wondered why they would want to destroy that much magic but honestly, it’s terrifying. You are just one of those, and we’ve invaded their territory.” He laughed and placed his head in his hands.

“I guess I haven’t been lucky after all,” he said with his head still down, “We chose the worst place possible to try and settle down. But, the crazy thing is there isn’t anywhere to go. The same people that tried to get rid of covens like yours is the reason we had to come here in the first place. Ironic, we thought they were doing the right thing at first.”

Lydia didn’t know how to respond to him so they sat in silence for a moment before he asked her, “What are you reading?” One of her books was on the ground beside her.

“It’s just this book I’m trying to figure out.”

“I can’t imagine there’s much of anything you don’t know.”

He took a bite from an apple and looked over her shoulder.

“They didn’t teach us much I thought from what I’m learning.”

“Like?”

“Well, I’ve been trying to find out about the King and the overthrow, that stuff.”

“You probably won’t find that in many books just yet. It’s not like that happened a long time ago.”

“I would just think that it’s something of importance.”

“It is but it’s not like it’s important to write down what’s happening when you’re just trying to survive.”

“I suppose.”

“So, what is it?”

“I found this while looking for things on Annora. But, it seems like it just tells a story. It’s difficult to read considering I’m having to translate it as well. There isn’t many spells or incantations just history on this group of creatures that didn’t actually exist. I’m not sure if that’s correct though.”

“Let me see,” he extended his hand.

She paused and looked at him skeptically.

“Hey,” he laughed, “I know things, Lyon isn’t the only one around here that’s smart.”

“I didn’t…It’s just in another language.”

“My father helped with many different creatures. I picked up a few of the common words.”

She handed it to him with a smile. His eyebrow’s pinched together as he read over the page. He kept surprising her in pleasant ways, she thought.

“No, see you’re translating this incorrectly. It’s not that they didn’t exist, they were invisible.”

“Invisible? Like by a charm?”

“No, that’s how they were naturally. My father told me stories about them. They’re Elves, a common descendant from hobgoblins, like Henry.”

“What?”

“They supposedly built these amazing structures from stone but were pretty horrible to anyone that came near their home as in, killing or imprisonment. People were so afraid of them they gave the children that they didn’t want as a sacrifice. The elves were all killed, according to what I was told, at least.”

“That can’t be true. That sounds…absurd.”

“I don’t know if it was true. It was just a story they told us as kids.”

“Like the sea creatures, my mom told me about those.”

“No,” he laughed, “Wait, are you serious? Those are real! No one goes out to the sea in the other realm. Those that tried never came back. Whole families were lost.”

“How could you not know what’s out in the sea?”

“It’s huge, lots of room for things to hide.”

“That’s ridiculous. I lived on that island for my entire life and I never saw ‘giant sea creatures that ate ships whole.’ Humans go out there all the time.”

“Well, it’s true.”

“Did you live near the coast?”

“No, but…”

“Exactly.”

She leaned against the truck and watched the stars. The metal of the truck was slick with dew while cool chill blew through the trees.

“Why do you need this?” she asked.

“Need what?”

“This car.”

“It’s a truck and we don't use it too much, just when we need to go to town.”

“You go to town? Why?”

“We have to get supplies like food and water.”

“Why don’t you make it?”

“Nothing will grow in this swampy water if you haven’t noticed.”

“We grew food.”

“Well, it had to have been done with magic. If you know how to do that, please let us know. We could use it.”

Lydia thought back to the fields they had on the island, she never really thought about how it was made. It wasn’t her job to know how that was done.

“Do you want to drive it?” he asked.

“Drive it?”

“Yes, drive it.”

“Oh no, I can’t even imagine how that would work.”

“It’s easy, come on.”

He jumped up and went to the left side of the truck. The vehicle jolted when he opened the door. She paused but then went to the opposite side has he had. She slid into the seat next to him. It smelled like grass and burnt oil on the inside. He pushed a button and lights came on in front of them. Lydia saw that the truck was parked in front of a dirt road. He started the truck and began driving around. He explained all the mechanisms of the vehicle as he performed them.

“Your turn,” he said after they had driven in three circles around the field.

“I don’t think…”

“Come on,” he said not giving her an option. He got out and went to her side of the truck and climbed in, she moved over to the driver’s seat for him to not sit on her.

“Put your foot there,” he said pointing to the floor peddle. She pressed the peddle and the truck lurched forward and stopped. She tried again, with the same result. She couldn’t stop giggling at every wrong move she made. The truck staggered forward then stopped and died for the third time. He laughed along with her.

“Like this,” he said as he wrapped one arm around her and placed his hands on hers. He helped her shift gears and steer as she released her foot slightly from the peddle. The truck moved forward slowly but it was moving. They went in a semi-circle when she pushed her foot down too hard and it jumped again. The movement slid him closer to her. They were now sharing the same seat. She couldn’t help but look up at him as she felt the muscles in his arms contract where they were pressed against her. He was looking at her as well. He cleared his throat quickly and slid back to the passenger’s seat.

“We should keep practicing fighting,” he said and got out of the truck. Lydia only noticed how fast her heart was beating once she was alone in the silence of the truck.

Hours later, Lydia was exhausted when they finally left the field and headed back to camp. They had practiced every type of magical fighting she could recall form her beginner days. He never seemed to tire, as soon as he had accomplished one he wanted to learn a new one. She taught him the different praecants and varying curses. He was particularly good at spell-casting, which didn’t surprise her. Spell-casting was just pure brute force instead of precision. Dueling with praecants, or swords, was more of a “bullet with a name on it” while spell-casting was more “to whom it may concern.” He was pleased when he lit a tree a flame. He couldn’t figure out how to put it out, but that would be for another day. She told him she had to get some sleep after she saw the sun had begun to rise. He hadn’t seemed to notice the time. When she finally laid on her cot in her warm tent, she fell asleep smiling for the first time in a long time.