A Warrior's Dance

XII – The Message of Heaven

Thaeros stood before the Neraida King, his stoic expression still present. Lower rank warriors stood behind him, heads bowed as they presented themselves before the king.

“Our people near the shore reported noises coming out from the sea, my king, for the past eighteen nights,” Thaeros said.

King Evander had the same eternal youth, just like the rest of their race, and his long silver hair almost touched his lower back. His golden eyes stared back at Thaeros, mirroring his void expression.

“What did you find when you patrol the shore?” Evander asked after a while. His long shimmering clothes made him looked delicate but every neraides knew it was the opposite. He held certain power, a gift directly from the Heavens.

“We don’t see any sightings of Sea Serpent, my king,” Thaeros answered. “But the idle sea seemed moving at night.”

Sea of Elora was also known as the dead sea. It had no waves, no creatures could live under, and the water was a poison for the people. Men had tried to venture the legendary sea, trying to prove everyone wrong. But those who ventured had never returned.

“And also,” he continued, “stars started to die, falling out of their place in the sky.”

That caught Evander’s attention. His intuition suddenly forced him to investigate further. He knew that stars began falling. It was an omen, no doubt. “The prophecy,” he whispered to himself.

His void emotion morphed into something, almost afraid of what was happening. He had been drowned by the novelty of his first born that he momentarily forgot the danger lurking under the sea. He stood from his chair with a sudden move and gestured for his lieutenant to follow him.

Evander led him to the cave and into the sacred chamber and lit the hanging torch in the middle of the dark room. Silver fire emerged from the torch, and instantly, the small candles around the chamber lit themselves with the same fire.

“The prophecy,” Evander repeated. There was a crease now on his forehead. “I think the heavens are sending us a message.”

Thaeros nodded. “I agree, my king.”

Both of them stared at the silver fire, a low crackling sound echoing from it. After a second, the air went stiff, their pointed ears flickered as they heard droplets of water from somewhere, their stomachs pressed with force. In a fleeting moment, the surrounding seemed to stop, and in a blink, dusts swirled like a tornado and quickly formed a human figure with wings.

Mikhail stood before them, and as soon as he became solid inside the sacred chamber, he tucked his massive wings at his back, letting his light simmered down in him. Long washed off feathers softly fell on the ground.

“Mikhail,” Evander greeted with a bow, bringing his right arm over his chest. Thaeros did the same.

Mikhail was one of the seven rangers who defeated Luferius, the bringer of dawn. His curls softened his strong features, but he had a distinct beauty that was a bit too much for human eyes. King Evander was supposed to be used to it by now, but he still couldn’t stop himself from admiring him.

“It has began,” Mikhail said, his deep voice bouncing off the walls. “You have to be ready. The Sea Serpent will soon emerge to breathe fire to all the living and cast evil to destroy humans. He will kill many. He will start another war among different races.”

Evander couldn’t bring himself to believe it. “So this monster isn’t just a tale made by men?”

The angel of Heaven shook his head. “No.”

“But according to the prophecy, no man can stop the Sea Serpent. Not a king, not the fairies, not even heaven rangers, like yourself.”

Mikhail turned to look at Thaeros. “Do not let fear overshadow your faith, brother. It is said that only who rises from its own ash can defeat it.”

“Are you referring to the great phoenix?” Thaeros asked.

Mikhail looked hopeful.

“Send message to all,” Evander ordered after letting the news sink in. “The races must unite if the evil will about to show itself. Maybe then, we’ll stand a chance.”

Thaeros bowed his head to the king. Without a word, he walked away to obey the king’s command.

“I shall not fail my people. Much more the humans,” Evander continued. “I’m afraid my gift cannot hold the wickedness of that monster.”

Mikhail placed his hand over the king’s shoulder. “You don’t have to do this all alone, old friend,” he started. “Summon the nymphs.  Open the path to their world. You need all the help you can get.”

He stared at the silver fire, somehow lost in his own thought. “They believe us no more, Mikhail. And they are right to do so. Our race had been corrupted with greed once.”

The ranger shook his head. “Then maybe it’s time for you to correct your wrongs, Evander. Like what you said to Thaeros, we should unite to stand a chance.”

****

Captain Raq was at the foot of the red sail, the biggest and strongest ship the valkans had built. The wind blew his face, his hard expression focused on the busy market from a distance. He stood his ground, his ships were still docked in the west part of Port City for thirty-two nights now.

Some kids wandered near them, fascinated to see their ships, eyeing them with fear and amusement. Royal guards were lined outside the palace gate, some were patrolling the market to make sure the valkans stayed in their ships.

Hilmer climbed inside the red sail, small dots of sweat had formed in his forehead. “Captain,” he called out.

Raq turned to him, awaiting news.

“I asked around the market but no one could tell about the witch,” he started and took a deep breath. “I sneaked inside the high palace gates and came across an old man from Esmo town.”

He brought Hilmer with them since he looked like the common people of the palace, nothing like a valkan. Hope seemed to shine in the captain’s face. “And?”

“He confirmed there is a mad witch who used to reside in that ruined town. Said the witch had a baby.”

“That’s my son, Akilah!” he yelled, a mixture of excitement and anger whirled inside him. “Where are they?”

Hilmer gauged the captain’s mood for a brief moment. He shook his head. “Nobody knows where they are. Whether they’re still inside the walls of the palace or travelled to other country, the man can’t tell.”

“Bring this man to me, my friend.”

“I’ve tried,” Hilmer said, then again, shook his head. “But he’s scared of the valkans. Most of them are.”

Raq smashed his hand to the railings, nose flaring. “Then I’ll bring myself before him. If I found out he’s lying, I’ll rip his tongue off his filthy mouth and crush his skull!”

Hilmer flinched at his reaction.

Sudden footsteps neared them. An old man approached with grave terror reflecting on his wrinkled face, his right hand clutching two parchments.

“Captain Raq,” he called out, eyes fixed on the wooden ground. “Nari nas barsan.”

Nari is dead.

His ragged accent momentarily froze the two men upon hearing it.

Raq eyed him intently, as if reading his crew’s mind, detecting any lies. But the look of terror the old man gave him couldn’t be denied.

“Khortoi tam!” the captain cursed as veins in his neck started to bulge. He spoke in their own language so loud that the other crews near them halted and listened. Raq marched off and headed inside.

Hilmer couldn’t tell why, but he felt his insides beating in the pit of his stomach. Looking above, he saw thick gray clouds hovering over them, hinting a storm- in the middle of summer.

The old man turned to Hilmer after the captain walked out with anger. “Another news,” he said, trying hard to speak the common language.

“Khen?” the blacksmith asked.

“Aas Neraides,” he answered.

From Neraides? Hilmer snatched the second parchment and read the message.

His instinct had never failed him before.

Something bad is going to happen.