A Warrior's Dance

XXXIII – It Has Begun

There was nothing unusual about how the dead sea kept its stillness. But the chilly wind humming on the neraida king’s ears made his stomach tensed. To conclude it, the night was a bit odd. Then in a snap, the ground shook, the sands vibrating, the waters creating ripples.

The thick grey clouds hid the moon, the stars losing its spark as gloom took over. The soldiers patrolling the shore stepped back as they realized what was happening. The sea was not still anymore. As if on cue, terror build up to their guts, their pointed ears seemed to hear a deep growl from within the cursed sea. The soldier blew his horn to warn the kingdom, his feet gliding on the sands as he ran to the safety of their land.

Continuous splash of strong waves broke the magical barrier set upon the waters of Elora Sea. Evander had been alerted and so all his warriors were on the shore, clutching their weapons, posed to attack any moment.

Another low groans could be heard from time to time, the once calm water became outrageous, sending tidal waves. The soldier had been called out, and in a hurry, all marched to the shore, all equipped with their weapons and bravery. The higher ranks were riding their winged-horses, all trying to pretend the fright would not faze them. They were perfectly lined not far from the water, enough to hold their safety.

Evander saw the fear in his wife’s eyes as he told her to lead the women and children at the foot of the mountain for safekeeping. He kissed his newly born child before calling out his warriors.

Evander’s guard was up, his eyes watching the sea like a hawk. He had never seen a Sea Serpent before, and he could only imagine what it looked like. With the flashed of lightning, the water in the sea spun like a tornado, creating heavy whirlpool. It looked like it was trying to create an opening, a doorway for the darkness to resurface.

King Evander swallowed, pushing his fear away. He needed to protect his people, and the entire breathing thing in that world. He clutched his staff, a long wooden stick, shaped like a spear. He mumbled a chant to himself, as he made use of wind to disturb the whirlpool from getting larger.

He could feel the strong force from the sea, fighting the power he was trying to cast at it. But the king continued anyway, even after hearing his staff made a cracking noise.

Not long after, the ground shook, and a massive creature appeared, creating more splashes and waves. And the moment Evander made an eye contact to the monster’s glinting red eyes, his staff twisted with a crack, breaking it into shreds. The king chocked, eyes bulging with tears, his body lifted in the air.

****

Sanne stared at the scroll she snatched from one of the walls from the Esmo market. Raiden’s face stared back at her, his scar evident in his young face. A stinging regret pinched her gut as she realized what she had done. A lot of heresay scattered among the vendors, gossiping at the treachery of the boy they dubbed as freak. She couldn’t tell now, but her gut told her it was because of her deal with Raiden that have caused the crime.

In short, she blamed herself. She should not have sent the letter. But doing so meant she could alert them of the attach from the kingdom. She would never turn her back from the people of Barren, the island she loved so much. Her emotions lately seemed always at peak, getting the best of her. She could tell there was something in her that have been awakened forcefully, a bubbling sensation she could not point out what. Since she met the red-head neraida, she felt uneasy and lightheaded.

It’s not good, it is not good,  she chanted in her head.

A knock pulled her off her reverie and instantly put her guard up. She stood from her bed, gulping a lungful of air before opening the door.

“Sanne,” Lady Lisbeth whispered, her eyes wide with anxiety. “You have to run. We have to run. Now.”

He heartbeat drummed overtime. “What do you mean? What is going on?”

“They are all rounding up Madam Lariza’s fellowship. That means us. Reika had been escorted inside the general’s hall and never left.”

“They did something to her?” she asked in horror, unable to even imagine what had happened to her. Reika was only a year older than her.

“Pack what is necessary and meet me at the back kitchen. The others are waiting for us there. You must hurry!”

 Lady Lisbeth turned her back, leaving her baffled and afraid. What she should do now? Her hands balled into fist as she tried to compose herself. Her knees wobbled, a lump growing larger in her throat. If she would not follow her instinct, she would be in trouble. And Sanne knew luck was not always available.

She needed to go. She needed to save herself. She needed to survive.

Her feet began to step toward her small wardrobe, her hands grabbing the robes she needed. She slipped on her shoes and kept her dagger at her belt. If she needed to fight, she would do so without a second thought.

If there was one thing she had learned from Madam Lariza, it was to keep on fighting. It was to be brave and be ready. She had been hiding long enough. The scar at her back seemed to itch again, bringing back the terrifying torment sentenced by the valkans. It was a nightmare she did not know when she could forget but it definitely did something different now. The memory once brought nothing but fright in her head but now was different. The terror was still there but surviving and escaping that put hope into her heart. She would not let that happen again to her. She would not let anyone hurt her and her friends again.

Now, Sanne had to put down her white robe and be the girl she was raised by her father. She was never a king servant.

She was a fighter.